Sins of Commission
by Stormchilde
Summary: Will the newest CSI become a serial killer's next victim?
1. Default Chapter

Title: Sins of Commission  
Author: Stormchilde – AKA: Harper's Cat  
Archive: Greg Sanders Angst Archive,  
Disclaimer: I don't own them, I don't make money from this, I just enjoy playing rough with them.  
Rating: PG – may increase later  
Setting/Season: between S3 and S4  
Spoilers: Play with Fire and Inside the Box  
Warnings: some graphic violence, angst and Greg torture  
Comments/Feedback: Please, feed The Cat

Summary: The newest CSI becomes a serial killer's next victim.  
A/N: A million thanks to my most excellent betas – Fwe and Shea

FBI Case File: "The Taser Killer" Serial Murders

First victim: April 7th. Angela Silverman, age 17.

Abducted on her way home from the bus stop. Body recovered in the parking lot of a church at 10:22 p.m. No evidence of sexual assault. Taser burns on left posterior shoulder. Ligature marks on wrists and ankles. Clothing and personal effects still on body.

C.O.D. – One stab wound piecing the diaphragm and right lung.

Second victim: April 7th. Marcus Bertram, age 28.

Abducted after leaving work. Body recovered in the parking lot of a church along with victim number one. No evidence of sexual assault. Taser burns on left

posterior shoulder. Ligature marks on wrists and ankles. Clothing and personal effects still on body.

C.O.D. - Shock and blood loss resulting from multiple knife wounds to upper abdomen.

Third victim: April 21st. Thomas Harvey, age 42.

Abducted while jogging. Body recovered two days later near highway 15. Body was nude and clean, personal effects and clothing not recovered. No evidence of sexual assault. Taser burns on left posterior shoulder. Ligature marks on wrists.

C.O.D. - Shock, blood loss resulting from multiple incisive wounds to the neck.

Fourth victim: May 2nd. Carol Jaeger, age 32.

Abducted on her way to work at a local strip club. Body recovered three days later off Highway 15. Body was nude and clean, personal effects and clothing not recovered. No evidence of sexual assault. Taser burns on left posterior shoulder. Ligature marks on wrists.

C.O.D. – Blood loss resulting from multiple incisive wounds to the face, groin and thighs.

Fifth victim: May 8th. Alan Davis, age 12.

Abducted on his way home from school. Body recovered five days later from a dumpster at the Marquise motel. Body was nude and clean, personal effects and clothing not recovered. No evidence of sexual assault. Taser burns on left posterior shoulder. Ligature marks on wrists.

C.O.D. – Blood loss due to multiple incisive wounds to the face and neck.

Sixth Victim: May 17th. William Harper, age 30.

Abducted from his home, body recovered a week later off Highway 15. Body was nude and clean, personal effects and clothing not recovered. No evidence of sexual assault. Taser burns on left posterior shoulder. Ligature marks on wrists.

C.O.D. – Blood loss resulting from multiple incisive wounds to the chest, neck, groin and thighs, one severing the femoral artery.

Seventh Victim: May 22nd. Elise Newcomb, age 42.

Abducted from a grocery store parking lot, body recovered two weeks later near Highway 15. Body was nude and clean, personal effects and clothing not recovered. No evidence of sexual assault. Taser burns on left posterior shoulder. Ligature marks on wrists.

C.O.D. – Blood loss due to multiple incisive wounds to the back, arms and shoulders.

Eighth Victim: June 7th. Greg Sanders, age 24

Abducted from his car.

C.O.D. – Undetermined - Body not recovered.


	2. Chap 2 Blood of Angels

"Ah, glad you're back." Said Brass sitting down in the chair in front of Grissom's desk. "I've got a good one for you Gil." Brass dropped the manila folder on Grissom's desk. "Patrol officer pulled him over for speeding and found the guy covered in blood."

"And the good part?" asked Grissom.

"He keeps insisting that it's just paint. He doesn't seem to be all there," Brass twirled his fingers at his temple, "loopy, you know what I mean? There are no injuries on him that would account for all the blood. There is something that looks like it might be a burn on his right palm, it's hard to tell unless we wash him up and I didn't want to do that until you guys got here. We pulled his clothes, sent those to DNA but the rest is still on him."

Grissom opened the folder and skimmed the report, "Vehicle?"

"Recovery will have it in the lab in a few minutes."

"I'll have Warrick and Sara take it when it gets here." Grissom stood up and picked up his case, Brass followed him out into the hall. They stopped at the trace lab where Catherine was finishing up some samples for Sara.

Grissom filled Catherine in on the new case before they went over to the interrogation room.

"His name is Brad McKenna. Have fun." Brass laughed, heading back to his office.

Grissom and Catherine went in, the officer on duty nodded to them and stepped closer to the suspect.

McKenna looked up at Catherine smiling, "Pretty. Pretty lady."

Grissom stepped between them, "Mr. McKenna we're going to take some samples from you and I just want you to relax."

"I know you." McKenna pointed at Gil, "You were nice to me."

"I'm sorry but I don't remember you."

"Everybody called me Boo," When Grissom still looked puzzled he added, "I was twelve, you said it wasn't my fault."

"Your parents." Grissom said.

"Yes! Yes!" McKenna clapped. "Ow!" he rubbed at his scalp where Catherine had plucked several hairs. "Why did you do that?"

"We just need some samples, we want to make sure you're not hurt."

"But _that_ hurt." McKenna whimpered.

"I won't hurt you any more, I promise." Grissom popped open one of the cotton swab collectors and held it out for McKenna to touch. "See? It won't hurt a bit."

McKenna gingerly touched the swab, "Yes. Soft." He pinched the end between his fingers, "Can I have it?"

"Sure." Grissom replied, relinquishing the swab. "If you'll let me take some samples from your hands and face."

"Okay." He sat up straight holding stone still, hardly breathing as Catherine and Grissom wiped the swabs across his face, neck and shoulders.

Grissom got samples from McKenna's hands and scraped carefully under McKenna's nails.

"I was good?" McKenna asked.

"Yes." Said Grissom, "You were good."

"Can I go home now?"

"I don't think so," Grissom look at the officer who shook his head, "not yet, but soon maybe."

McKenna looked like he was going to start crying, "I'm hungry, can I have something to eat?"

Grissom patted him on the shoulder, "Sure Brad. One of the officers will bring you something to eat and drink okay?"

McKenna's voice wavered, "Okay."

Outside the room Catherine shook her head, "He's kinda creepy."

"Hmm?" Grissom asked, looking distracted.

"I said he's creepy. Did you look at his eyes?" she shivered, "Nothing in them."

"I met him eight years ago when his father murdered his mother and then committed suicide in front of him."

"Ick. Poor guy, no wonder he's not all there."

"Hmmph." Grissom headed toward the DNA lab, puzzled by his reaction Catherine followed.

Grissom stopped at the DNA lab, surprised to find Evan, not Greg, standing at the printer.

"What are you doing here?" Grissom asked.

"Greg's a no-show tonight so I stayed for a second shift."

"Anything on that blood from McKenna's shirt?"

"Not yet."

Grissom took Catherine's samples and handed them along with his to the day shift tech. "Well, I've got more for you. Page me with the results." He said brusquely.

"Hey! We got food." Warrick called from the break room as they came down the hallway.

Catharine started down the hall, then stopped when she realized he wasn't following, "Aren't you hungry?"

"Go on," Grissom replied, "I'll be there in a minute." He turned and went into his office.

She watched as he picked up the phone and dialed. When he saw her waiting, he mouthed 'Go on.' Catherine shook her head and smiled, the smell of spicy Thai drew her to the table where the rest of the team was already filling plates.

Grissom let the phone ring until the answering machine finally kicked on, "Greg this is Gil, call me as soon as you can." His voice was steady, not betraying the hint of unease he felt. Sanders was eccentric but not irresponsible enough to not call if he wasn't coming in. He put on his glasses, looked up Greg's cell phone number and called that too. Still no answer and another message he hoped the young man would soon respond to.

Grissom found his team settling down around the table to share a meal, "Has anyone seen Greg?"

"He called in sick a couple of days ago." Sara said.

"When?"

"Tuesday." She said around a mouth full of rice.

"That's more than a couple of days. Has anyone heard from him since?"

"Not me." Warrick said

"No." said Catherine

"Me neither." Replied Nick.

Grissom paged Brass, "I want an officer to do a welfare check at Greg's apartment and I want it done right now."

"What's going on Grissom?" Catherine asked.

"I don't know but I'm going to find out." He stalked out leaving them staring at his back.

Grissom met Evan at the DNA lab door, the tech thrust the paper into Gil's hands, "I've ran it four times, there's no mistake." Evan swallowed nervously, "CODIS

matched it right off. It's Greg's blood."

The paper shook in his hands, "Thanks Evan." Said Grissom. He walked back to the interrogation room. Grissom restrained himself from touching the man, his eyes flashed with rage as he slammed his fist on the table. "Where is he?" He demanded.

"Who?" McKenna looked up from the sandwich he was eating.

"Greg!"

"Greg? Yeah, I think that was his name." McKenna frowned, "You know he kept saying you'd come for him, it started getting on my nerves" He picked up the

can of soda and took a noisy drink, "so I fixed it so he couldn't say it anymore."

"Where is he?"

"I can't tell you," McKenna shook his head like a stubborn child. "I'm not done yet. No peeking until I'm done."

Brass stepped between them just as Grissom lost his self-control.

"Uniforms say his car is in its space at the apartment complex. No one is answering the door. They're getting the manager to open it now." Brass said quietly.

Grissom stepped back, clenching his hands at his sides. With a grim look he noticed the others standing in the hallway, dinner abandoned. "Let's go people."


	3. Chap 3 Invisible Ties

A/N: Again thanks to my betas – Fwe and Shea

**Lins** – Thanks! As my first reviewer, chapter two is dedicated to you!

**Annibal** - Glomps Anni Thanks for stopping by to read it! I hope I can reel you in with a couple more chapters!

**Emmithar** – You know it put a lot of pressure on me to have one of my favorite authors asking me to write more, I'll certainly try to keep you entertained ;)

**Chrissy8 – **As you wish – more!

**Loozy** – Since you asked so nicely here's another chapter!

Sins of Commission

Chapter 3 – Invisible Ties

Grissom was all business when they arrived at the complex. "Sara, you and Warrick take Greg's car. Nick, Catherine and I will do the apartment."

Greg's car was unlocked, parked in the assigned space. There wasn't much to check in it.

"I'm not finding any foreign hairs or fibers. You get anything?" Sara asked.

"Complete print on the roof and a partial palm on the top edge of the door." Warrick put the evidence in an envelope. "Did you check under the seat?"

"Got something." Sara said, pulling an oblong plastic object out from between the seats.

"What is it?"

"Ugly."

Warrick frowned. "Do you think you could give me a little better description than that?"

"I think it's a stun gun." Sara explained.

"Greg's?"

"Oh please." Sara laughed, "our Greg with a stun gun?"

"Right. 'Make no assumptions', as Grissom would say." Warrick held out an evidence bag and Sara dropped the gun in.

The apartment was clean and neat. In the living room, a large rack of CDs and DVDs took up most of one wall. There was a brown suede sofa and matching chair near

the entertainment center and on the other side, an aquarium.

Grissom watched the fish for a few minutes. He picked up a can of food and opened the top. A slender hand covered his, stopping him. Grissom turned to see a young girl beside him.

"It's my turn." Her voice was firm.

"Excuse me?"

"Today is Friday, it's my turn to feed Felix and Oscar." She explained.

"The fish?"

"Felix is an orange Lamprologus leleupi. Oscar is a black and white marbled Cyrtocara livingstoni."

"You're a very smart girl. My name is Gil Grissom, what's yours?"

"Rochelle Marcum." She sprinkled a few flakes on the water in the tank, then closed the lid and looked at Grissom, frowning. "Did something bad happen to Greg?"

"We don't know. Have you seen Greg, Rochelle?"

"Greg does laundry at 6:40 on Wednesdays," she said in a sing-song voice, "Takes out the garbage every night at nine."

"There you are Rochelle," Mrs. Marcum scolded, "I thought I told you not to come over here."

"I had to feed Felix and Oscar." Rochelle rolled her eyes. "They're hungry, no food since Monday."

"Officer, I'm very sorry, I told her to stay away but she's a stubborn girl sometimes."

"She's not a problem, Mrs. Marcum. In fact I think she might be able to help us."

"She'll probably be more of a hindrance than a help."

"Thank you Mrs. Marcum. Nick, would you take Mrs. Marcum to the kitchen please and interview her?"

"Sure Grissom."

"Rochelle how do you know Greg?"

"Greg is my brother."

"Not that Greg, Rochelle." Mrs. Marcum interrupted, "He means the Greg that lives here."

"Yes Mom." Rochelle smiled at Grissom and leaned close to him. "Want to know a secret?" she whispered.

"Yes."

"Greg can see me." She nodded.

He looked askance at her, "I don't think I understand what you mean Rochelle."

"Greg can see me, he talks to me." She frowned, "No one else does."

"Yes, now I understand." He nodded sympathetically, "Rochelle when was the last

time you saw Greg?"

"Monday, 7:52 a.m. Liquid silver, 2.5 litre engine Nissan Maxima, space 12, lot 4."

"You have an impressive memory for details."

"I like things."

"Did Greg go inside?"

"No, Greg was sleepy and his friend let him lay down in a red Yukon."

"His girlfriend?"

"No. That's Maggie Wilmer, 1226 West Lone Pine, 555-8962 drives a yellow 2002 Ford Mustang. It was a man friend."

"Do you know this man?"

"Nope." She picked up a white animal and began stroking it.

"What do you have there?" Grissom asked.

"My cat Princess. You can pet her if you want to."

Grissom stroked the synthetic fur, "She's very soft."

"I brush her and give her baths with baby wipes." She looked earnestly at Grissom, "Who will take care of Felix and Oscar? Greg will be sad if they die."

"Do you think your mom would let you come over and feed them?"

Rochelle shook her head. "Greg said on Friday it's my turn."

"Would your mom let you feed them every day until Greg gets back? Then you can go back to just Fridays." Grissom assured her, "Can you do that?"

Rochelle smiled, hugging the stuffed cat to the side of her face. "I will do a very good job taking care of Felix and Oscar, I will!"

Catherine was pleasantly surprised at how neat Greg kept his apartment. His bed was made, a few dirty clothes were in the hamper and the towels in the bathroom were hung on a rack behind the door. The bathroom vanity was cluttered with various hair styling products in odd shaped bottles and colors that boggled the mind. His closet was a riot of colorful shirts, idly she wondered where he got them from. But hey, this was Vegas, land of flashy duds after all.

In the kitchen she stepped around Nick and the landlady to open the refrigerator. She hoped that they didn't hear the laugh that bubbled up when she saw the only three items the unit contained. Catherine looked over the door and met Nick's eyes, apparently he had heard her and she grinned at his puzzled look, "Tell you later."

"Greg is a good boy, very quiet, no trouble at all." Mrs. Marcum continued. "He's watched Rochelle for me a couple of times."

"Rochelle?" Nick smiled. "Is that your little girl?"

Mrs. Marcum's laugh was short and humorless. "Rochelle is eighteen. Three years ago she and her brother were on their way home from a school dance when a drunk

driver hit them. My son Greg died and Rochelle's never been right in the head since."

"I'm very sorry Ma'am."

"Thank you. Anyway, Greg's a good tenant. I've never had any trouble from him, always pays his rent on time, no wild parties, his music gets a little loud sometimes," she smiled, "but boys will be boys and he always turns it down if someone complains."

"Yeah, he likes his music." Nick laughed, "He plays it loud at work sometimes too." Nick's expression was melancholy, he'd never admit it, but he missed Greg's music rattling the glass in the labs.


	4. Chap 4 Violations

**Mar – **Thank you! I hoped the first chapter would be a good hook, so far everyone seems to agree it worked. Yeah, poor Greggy's not looking too good right now.

**Fwe – **YOU ARE NOT A BAD BETA! I'm just so brain damaged I can't remember to tell even my beta what, who and where! LOL! Thanks for betaing and writing stories that feed my Greg addiction!

**Lins – **Keep reading and reviewing and I'll keep writing.

**d** – Thanks for the encouragement!

**HelloTimeBomb** – OMG! How do my favorite writers keep getting in here!

Thanks for the encouragement and I hope you'll be updating your story soon 'cause I'm addicted!

**A/N**: Is Jaqui the correct spelling? The woman who does the fingerprints, you the one I'm talking about.

Fwe: My beta, again I can't thank you enough for all your help, without you, this would be pretty ugly.

Sins Of Commission - Chapter 4- Violations

Back at the lab, Grissom was still in go mode. "Warrick, I want you and Sara to process the truck. Recovery should have brought it in by now. Catherine, you take the stun gun down to ballistics and see what Archie can get for us. Nick will take the prints to Jacqui".

"Where are you going?" Catherine asked.

"Brass has an address from the truck registration." He held up a hand as the others started to protest, " It's not McKenna's truck so I doubt we'll get anything, but I want to go along anyway."

Grissom rode in tense silence with the police captain. Brass said, "You will hold back until we clear it, understand?"

Grissom nodded, "Just be quick."

"I will."

They pulled up and parked across the street from a small frame house with a fenced yard dotted with children's toys.

"Doesn't look much like the residence of a crazed killer." Brass commented dryly.

Officers approached the front door, shouted, then used a ram to break it open. They rushed in, weapons ready. In a few moments they returned to the porch. Brass shook his head, "Nothing. No sign of Greg."

A cough drew Grissom's attention and he saw an elderly woman standing behind the screen door of the house they were parked in front of. He opened the gate and went up the walk. "We're looking for Bruce Rhodes, do you know where we might find him?" Grissom asked, waiting on the steps.

"He's gone and good riddance." She paused and her voice softened, "I have no idea what happened to that poor boy of theirs but the missus moved to Del Norte last year."

"Boy?"

"Their foster boy, Brad. Bruce was terribly cruel to the poor thing, always hitting him. The screaming and fighting that went on over there was terrible." She opened the door and stepped out, "This new family, they're much younger, quieter too."

"Have you seen Brad around?"

"Not since he and Bruce got into that last argument."

"Do you recall when that took place?"

"March 11th. My daughter was here that day. We both heard them. Bruce was threatening to kill Brad and Katrina."

"Katrina?"

"Mrs. Rhodes. She and Brad were close. Bruce, he was a monster."

"Thank you very much for your help."

"Keller, my name is Laura Keller."

"Thanks you Mrs. Keller."

The ballistic lab was busy so Catherine left the gun with Bobby, the day shift tech who had come in to help Archie. Ten minutes later he paged her to come back to the lab.

"This thing is a dinosaur." He shook his head, "It must be ten years old and not in good condition. It's been dropped or thrown, cracking the case and bending the prongs and someone has jerry rigged it to up the voltage, did a pretty lousy job of it too. See this?" He pointed to a melted looking piece of plastic inside, "Every time it's used it warps the chip a little more, eventually the modulation on this thing will be so far off that it will be lethal with just a five second contact."

"It's still functional though?"

"Not to manufacturing specs but yeah, you could use this on someone and still take them down. It'll leave a nasty burn, probably cause whoever you hit with it to be groggy for at least a half hour, possibly some nerve damage around the contact site."

Bobby pressed the trigger, the unit buzzed and he yelped, nearly dropping the gun.

"Are you okay?" asked Catherine.

Bobby lay the gun down and held up his hand, revealing a red spot on his palm. "Obviously I missed something." He winced, "Somewhere it's grounding against one of the screws in the case."

"I guess that would explain why it was dropped in Greg's car." Catherine said.

"These things aren't registered but I'll do some digging, see if I can come up with anything helpful."

"Thanks Bobby."

Jacqui was determined to find a match for the prints Nick brought her. He sat and watched as she went through the files. She took a few minutes to log in the prints Bobby brought her from the stun gun, then went back to searching again. "The prints from the car match the prints on the exterior of the gun." She said.

"That's no surprise." Replied Nick. "The guy probably zapped Greg then touched the car while he was checking to make sure no one saw him."

"Still no match on the other prints found inside the stun gun but I'll keep looking." Jacqui promised.

When he came back, Grissom gathered the others in the break room to report on what they'd found so far.

"The house belongs to a new family, we didn't get anything from that but a neighbor says that Brad fought with his foster father Bruce and she hasn't seen either one of them since." Grissom informed them.

Bobby stopped in for a few moments to let them know what he'd come up with on the taser gun. "Jacqui said the prints on the outside don't match with the prints on the batteries or the interior. She hasn't found a match yet but she's still searching." He held up his hand, showing them the red mark on his palm, "Burn pattern from using the unit," he smiled ruefully, "is consistent with test subject and the suspect."

"That's dedication to the job Bobby." Grissom teased, "What did we get from the truck?"

"McKenna's prints, hairs and a few fibers." Warrick reported. "A business card from an art gallery, other than that it's pretty clean."

"Hey Catherine, what was so funny about Greg's refrigerator?" Nick asked.

"There were only three things in it." She grinned "Want to take a guess as to what they are?"

Warrick made a face, "Having see some of the stuff he eats I'm not sure I'd recognize anything in his refrigerator."

Catherine laughed, "A carton of milk, a box of cocoa puffs and a Tony the Tiger cereal bowl."

"That's all he had in his fridge?" Sara asked incredulously.

"Who keeps a cereal bowl in the fridge?" Nick asked.

"People who like cold cereal bowls." Grissom replied. "Sara, you're with me. Let's see if this gallery can tell us were Mr. McKenna lives."

The gallery was located in an upscale suburban building made mostly of glass. Bistros and trendy clothing shops occupied the fringes of the mini-mall. A melodic tone sounded as they entered the colorful hall and a man in a richly tailored suit came out of one of the rooms.

"Richard Forrest?" Sara asked.

"How can I help you?"

"Do you know a man named Brad McKenna?"

"Exceptional artist. I don't have any of his work at the moment but he has assured me that he will be finished with his latest piece by the weekend."

"We're not here to buy." Sara held up her I.D. "Do you know where his studio is?"

"Is Brad in some sort of trouble?" He pulled a card out of his pocket and wrote an address on the back of it. "This is where I send his checks. Brad's a little odd but he's harmless."

"Odd?" Grissom asked, taking the card. "How so?"

"His work is brilliantly composed but he only paints in one awful color. Such a shame, really."

"And that would be?"

He looked around, then satisfied that no one would overhear him, "I call it blood."

Grissom raided an eyebrow.

"I do have one of his paintings." Forrest admitted, "It's a very emotional piece, disturbing I suppose some would call it." He walked to the back of the gallery and came back with a small framed canvas.

Grissom looked at it critically, it was a portrait of a young woman with her hands over her mouth, her eyes were wide as if she were seeing some unimaginable horror. There was no doubt of the artist's talent, were it not for the texture and color, it might have been a photograph.

Grissom took out a scalpel and scraped off a fleck of paint.

"Hey! That's a work of art!" the gallery owner protested.

Grissom swapped the fleck, then moistened the swab with phynothlin. The swab changed color, "Now it's a work of evidence. I'll need a list of all the people who have purchased Mr. McKenna's paintings."

Mr. Forrest looked ill, "I can tell you who bought nine of them but yesterday a young lady came in and paid cash for his last one. I didn't get her name."

Grissom smiled, "Any good with a forensic artist Mr. Forrest? We'll need a description."

When they got back to the Tahoe, Grissom pulled out his cell phone and called Catherine and gave her the address, "Bring Nick and Warrick, we'll meet you there."

"What about Brass?" Catherine asked, "What should I tell him?"

"Nothing, I don't think we'll be needing him."

"Right." Catherine said doubtfully, "See you in ten."

A neatly trimmed lawn surrounded the old but well kept house. Grissom lifted the corner of the welcome mat and picked up the key hidden there.

"How'd you know there'd be a key under there?" Sara asked.

"I didn't, it was just a hunch." Grissom inserted the key in the deadbolt and it turned with a soft click, "McKenna is pretty trusting, it just fits that he'd keep a key under the mat just in case."

Catherine's SUV pulled up and they waited on the porch for the others. Nick and Warrick drew their guns, they went in ahead of Grissom and the women.

The house was sparsely furnished and obsessively clean. It was quiet, lit by sunlight filtering through the curtains. The living room was bare hardwood floor that creaked as they advanced inside, try as they might to be silent their footsteps still clicked on the floor. There was an easel near the front window, an unfinished canvas sat on it. The small table beside it held paintbrushes, a few small glass containers and a palette knife. The half-finished painting was that of a young man, eyes closed as if in sleep, head resting on his outstretched arm. The resemblance to Greg was uncanny.

Grissom waved Nick to check the next room, the door on the left. He went in followed by Sara. Only the sounds of a door opening carefully came as they searched. When they came back Nick shook his head. The next room was a kitchen on the right. It was bright and clean, a small table and two chairs near the doorway. Across the hall, the last room, Grissom with his gun ready opened the creaking door. It was dark in this room, muffled groans and sobbing make the room more eerie. Though he couldn't see them Grissom sensed the others behind him. A flashlight clicked on and the beam swept the room illuminating the bathroom fixtures. The light settled on the tub and the shower curtain pulled closed around it.

Catherine's eyes met his and he nodded for her to pull back the curtain. She drew it back quickly and the flashlight beams wavered across the bloody body that was suspended from the rafters.

There was a strangled scream as Catherine's hand brushed against the body.

"Greg?" Grissom's voice held both relief and sadness. "Greg, we're going to get you out of here. We need to process the scene first but we'll be quick."

Sara had her phone out and called for an ambulance before the others even had their cases open. Camera flashes made a dizzying display as they worked quickly. The overhead fixture was broken and the only window in the bathroom had been boarded up, the flashlights and the flash form the camera were the only lights.

"Nick, Warrick, give me hand." Grissom said, climbing into the tub. He pulled out his knife and cut the rope that bound Greg's hands.

Warrick and Nick gently lowered Greg to the floor. Sara had turn away, biting on her hand to keep from screaming.

Greg's face was caked with dried blood, fresh lines streamed from the entry and exit wounds on his cheeks where the wooden handle of a broken paintbrush had been driven in one side and out the other, effectively gagging him.

"McKenna said he'd fixed it so Greg couldn't talk." Grissom sighed.

Greg began to choke and Catherine pulled him up against her, "He can't swallow with that damn thing gagging him." Heedless of the blood that was staining her jacket, she held him tighter, "Christ! Where the hell is that ambulance?"

The sounds of sirens grew louder, obviously there were more vehicles responding than just the ambulance.

"Brass isn't going to be happy about this." Said Warrick.

"I'm not happy about this." Said Nick, "I want five minutes alone with that freak."

Greg started to shiver and Warrick went into the bedroom and pulled the quilt off the bed. He brought it back and wrapped it around the young man. The cuts on Greg's back and shoulders had pulled open and the material was rapidly turning red.

"Out." Grissom ordered his people as the paramedics arrived. "They'll need room."

Reluctantly, Warrick, Nick and Sara followed Grissom out into the living room.

Sara stopped in front of the easel, folding her arms across her chest she stared angrily at the painting. "That sick son of a bitch used Greg's blood to paint his portrait."

"I'd like to use that bastard's blood to paint this damn house." Nick growled.

"How many other people do you think he did this to?" Warrick asked. "That guy at the gallery said he'd brokered ten paintings for McKenna in the last four months."

"We still have a job to do." Grissom reminded them, "Let's get all the evidence we can to put this bastard away."

"Grissom this house is cleaner than my mother's." Nick complained, "What do you think we're gonna find here?"

"We won't know until we try." Grissom looked up as the medics came out with the stretcher.

"I'm going with him." Catherine said.

"Keep us informed." Said Grissom, "We're going to finish processing this house."

"I'll call as soon as I know anything." Catherine followed the paramedics out.

"Everybody take a room, Nick you've got the kitchen, Sara, bedroom. Warrick you take this room and I'll do the bathroom."

"Grissom!" Brass' voice was loud and very angry, "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he demanded as he pushed his way inside. "You're not cops, you're investigators! We should have been informed!"

Grissom looked unimpressed by the tirade, "We couldn't wait, Jim. One of my people was dying in here and I wasn't going to sit around until your people cleared it."

"You…" Brass was at a loss for words, "I ..." He turned and went back to the front door, "I want a perimeter set up around this place!" he shouted to the officers milling around on the porch. "Now!"


	5. Chap 5 Here Without You

**Sillie: **I promise, I'll update more if the computer will stop crashing :0

**Annibal:** Ouchie! Paper cuts are the worst! Thanks for the encouragement, come back for more ;)

**lins: **Thanks,I'm glad you like it! Who knows what terrible fate awaits…

A/N: Yes, I know water isn't good for stitches, but let's pretend in this case it won't do any harm, poor Greggy needs a hot bath. Sorry if this seems OOC, I haven't seen very many of the episodes (KILL THE CABLE COMPANY!)

Kudos to my ever-patient beta: **FWE**! I don't know where she finds the time to beta for me when she's writing fantastic stories of her own.

Thanks to a spyware removal program, my computer had erased the last four chapters, even the ones I had on the backup so…

It may be a while before I update again, sorry!

Chapter 5 – Here Without You 

"I've got knives, no visible blood traces but maybe we can find something back at the lab. Dammit, this is the cleanest crime scene I've ever been to. This guy cleans everything. I found two gallons of vinegar and a ten-pound bag of baking soda under the kitchen sink. He's obviously used it to clean all sink traps, 'cause I got nothin'.'" Nick's accent was becoming more noticeable with his exhaustion and aggravation at the lack of evidence, "He even washes the empty cans and bottles before he throws them away."

"Sara?" Grissom asked.

"This guy is obsessively tidy. Everything is neatly folded, hung and put away. I've got prints, fibers and hair but I'm betting it's all his."

"Warrick?"

"Same here. Everything in this place is beyond clean."

"Bathroom didn't yield much either." Grissom pinched the bridge of his nose, "There's some blood residue in the bathtub drain but it looks like he's cleaned the walls and the bathroom sink."

"Let's get it back to the lab and then we can go to the hospital and check on Greg." Warrick suggested.

Grissom checked his watch; they'd been here for almost forty-five minutes. "I'm surprised Catherine has called yet." He pulled out his cell phone, checking to see if he'd missed her call. "No missed calls."

They were loading up the Tahoe when Grissom's phone rang. Everyone gathered around him as he answered, "Catherine?" He turned the phone to speaker so that the others could hear her.

"Gil," she sighed, "He's going to be okay. He's dehydrated and lost a lot of blood so it'll be a day or two before he's up to answering questions."

"Thank God." Sara said.

"It took 118 stitches to close up all the wounds on him and he's on his third unit of blood. He was still pretty groggy when I left to call you."

"We're heading back to the lab," said Grissom, "then we're coming over to the hospital."

"He's in ICU; they won't let more than one of us at a time in." Catherine said.

Grissom frowned, "We'll be there soon."

It didn't take them long to log in what little evidence they brought back. Most of the time was taken up by answering the questions of the concerned fellow lab techs. Hodges seemed subdued as he took the envelopes from Grissom. "This is my top priority." He said gravely. "I'll page you as soon as I get anything."

"That guy is still a kiss ass." Sara grumbled as they walked back out to the parking lot.

"He's getting better." Said Warrick.

"At kissing ass?" Nick laughed.

Catherine met them in the ICU waiting room. "He's sleeping right now. The doctor said he should be up to answering questions in the morning." She shivered and rubbed her arms. "He said there shouldn't be any permanent damage from any of the cuts or the wounds on his face but there is some minor nerve damage from the stun gun."

"He's talking okay?" Nick asked.

"He can talk, but what he's been saying so far hasn't made much sense because of the sedatives and pain killers they gave him."

"Why did they give him a sedative?" Sara asked.

"He's pretty nervous about being touched. People coming up on him and startling him…" Catherine's voice cracked, "causes some pretty extreme reactions."

"Not surprising given what he's been through." Grissom said.

"When you go in don't touch him without letting him know you're there." Catherine warned, "Make sure he sees you before you touch him so he won't be afraid."

"If he's asleep there's not much point in us going in," said Warrick, "He won't know we're here. We can come back tomorrow after we're all rested and calm."

"Yeah," said Sara, "You're right, we should get it together before we see him."

"You go on," Grissom said. "I'll see you tomorrow. I want to check on Greg before I go."

Sara put her hand on Grissom's arm, "Tell him we'll be back."

"Yeah," said Nick. "Tell we miss him."

"And his coffee." Warrick joked.

"I will." Grissom replied. "Now get out of here," he looked pointedly at Catherine, "All of you."

She grinned tiredly, "All right, all right. I'm going."

He waited, watching until they'd all gone before walking down to Greg's room.

A nurse was checking Greg's vitals and Grissom hesitated in doorway.

"You can come in." she smiled, "He's doing better, we'll probably move him down to a regular room tomorrow."

Greg was laying on his right side, curled up, the blankets tucked securely around him most likely by Catherine. The gown and blankets covered the cuts on his shoulders and back but the dark wound on his cheek stood out against his pale skin like a macabre dimple.

The nurse noticed his attention to the injury and said, "That will most likely leave only a small scar and even that will fade." She finished writing in the chart, "You can stay a while if you want to. Talk to him, touch him if you want, it'll do him a world of good to know the people who care about him are here."

Grissom pulled the lone chair in the room close to the bed and sat down. For several minutes he just sat and watched Greg sleep, eyes moving under the thin lids, mouth quirking in an almost smile. Greg's eyes began to move faster, the peeping of the heart monitor increased in tempo and the young man whimpered.

Grissom reached over the bed rail and closed his hand around Greg's, careful not to touch the raw looking wound on his wrist. "It's okay, Greg." He said softly, leaning closer to the spiky hair, "You're safe now."

Greg's hand tightened on his, but he seemed to calm, breathing slower and the heart monitor slowed its beeping.

Grissom tried to release Greg's hand but the younger man held on tighter and he gave in, leaning against the bed. "No one is going to hurt you, Greg." He watched as Greg relaxed, the tense lines in his face fading, making him look years younger. For a moment Grissom wondered if this was what it felt like to watch one of your own children sleep and he felt an unexpected sad longing for things that had never been.

With his other hand he brushed back some of the spiky strands of Greg's hair, surprised at the soft texture. He'd seen Greg on a daily basis, but never really looked at him before. There were faint scars probably from some childhood trauma, one high on his forehead, the other on his chin. A mole on his neck, acne that proved more than any birth certificate that Greg was still a young man and the fading remnants of a piecing in lobe of his ear.

Grissom smiled, wondering why Greg had stopped wearing the earring, it couldn't have been any more outlandish than the shirts or the hair, could it?

It had been a long shift and Grissom was tired, he drifted off several time, waking with a start when his back protested the uncomfortable position. Greg still refused to give up his grip on Grissom's hand, any effort to free himself only resulted in the young man's soft keening cries and clinging tighter so he resigned himself to waiting until the medications relaxed Greg enough that he could take back his hand and go home and sleep in his own bed.

The next thing he knew, he was waking up to see Greg's face only inches from his own.

"Well this is kinda awkward." Greg said, looking embarrassed.

Grissom groaned, feeling the muscles in his neck and back protested as he sat up. He smiled as Greg released his grip on his hand.

"Sorry about that." Greg mumbled, shoving his hand under the pillow.

"Nothing to be sorry about." Grissom said, "There's no shame in needing someone to lean on." He laughed trying to get Greg to smile, "Or lean against."

It worked, Greg smiled, "Did I snore?"

"I don't know," Grissom winked at him, "I was asleep."

A nurse slipped into the room, "Would you gentlemen like something to eat? I have lunch trays if you're hungry."

"Not me thanks." Grissom rubbed his hands over his face and yawned. "I'm going home and get cleaned up."

"How about you?" she asked Greg. " I have some soup and sandwiches." She came over and checked the readout on the monitors.

"Soup sounds good." Greg said.

"How's the pain?" she asked, checking the IV. "Do you need another dose?"

"Yeah, my back hurts." Greg admitted. "And my shoulders."

"Well I'm getting out of here so they can take care of you, but I'll be back later."

"Stay out of my coffee." Greg teased.

"Stop using my water." Grissom smiled, pausing at the door. "The others were here last night and they said they'd be back today if you're up to it."

"Yeah," Greg smiled, "I'd like that."

"Check with the front desk when you come back, we'll be moving him to a regular room in a couple of hours."

After Greg had eaten a light lunch the doctor came in and checked his stitches and asked him how he felt.

"Good." He lied. Every movement, every little sound set his heart into a panicked pounding and his shoulders felt like they were on fire.

"Tired?"

"A little."

"I'm going to go ahead and have you moved to a regular room," The doctor wrote in the chart then closed it. "But you'll still get to be our guest for at least two more days."

Not long after he was moved to his new room, a nurse came in and removed the IV line. Leaving the port in place on the back of his hand, she taped it down securely, "I doubt we'll need it but I'm going to leave that in just in case we have to give you some more meds. You're terribly difficult to get a line into."

"Everybody says I'm difficult." Greg grumbled.

She laughed, "How about a nice warm whirlpool?" asked the nurse, "It'll help loosen up the muscle strain in your shoulders."

"Warm sounds good." Greg said. A permanent chill seemed to have settled over him that he couldn't get rid of no matter how many blankets he had.

She helped him into the wheelchair, covering him up with the blanket. "You'll feel much better after this."

Getting into the whirlpool tub proved to be a little more difficult than he expected, he was still stiff and sore but once he was settled into the delicious warmth of the water he decided it had been worth the effort.

"Just lean back and relax." The nurse advised him. "Here's a call button if you need anything," she clipped a cable to the rail, "otherwise I'll be back to get you in ten minutes."

Greg settled back and closed his eyes but every little noise startled him and he ended up surveying the room. It was darker in here than he'd like, mechanical sounds from the various pumps and equipment made enough noise to cover up any sounds made by another person.

'You gotta relax.' He told himself, 'There's nobody here but you.'

The heat and motion of the water finally did relax the tension in his shoulders but his eyes never closed. He stared at the wounds on his wrists, puffy and red. It didn't hurt, as ugly as it looked; he felt no pain from those. The wounds on his face only hurt when his tongue persisted in exploring the unfamiliar texture of the sutures. His shoulders ached less now but the pain from the cuts was still a dull ache. Ten minutes alone in darkened treatment room seemed interminable and Greg's heart pounded fearfully when he heard the door open.

"Times up." The nurse said cheerfully, "Do your shoulders feel better now?"

Forcing a smile, he replied, "Yeah, you were right, it did help."

Getting out of the tub was easier than getting in had been, he almost immediately missed the warmth despite the thick towels and blanket.

As they got closer to his room he could make out the voices of his co-workers.

"Well I hope he's going to be alright," Sar paused and Greg imagined she was talking with her hands, "you know."

"Hey this is Greg we're talking about," Warrick replied, "he'll get over it."

Greg shivered and the nurse pulled the blanket up around his shoulders.

"Getting chilled?" she asked.

"Yeah." He replied. He pasted on a smile as they came into the room, but his heart was pounding and he felt ashamed to be so weak.


	6. Chap 6 A Place For Everything

A/N: Make of it what your twisted minds will, but if you remember the case files (Chapter 1), McKenna isn't into that.

R/R are at the bottom of this page this time. (I change things around just to make ya crazy!)

**FWE – You are the best! **A good beta is a rare thing.

**Chapter 6 - A Place For Everything **

Sara had been sitting on the edge of the bed. She got up when they came in.

"Don't leave on my account," Greg teased, "I like having you in my bed."

Sara laughed and started to punch his shoulder, then remembering his injuries, settled for ruffling his hair, "Dream on labrat."

"Now you look like the Greg we all know." Said Warrick.

"No peeking," Greg said as the nurse helped him out of the wheelchair and onto the bed. He held the back of his gown closed with one hand, "I know you wanna see it but I'm just not in the mood right now."

Sara rolled her eyes, "Seen one butt, you've seen 'em all."

Greg pulled the covers up and settled back against the pillow, "And how many naked butts have you seen Sidle?"

Sara blushed and Warrick laughed.

Changing the subject, Sara said "Catherine and Nick will be by later, they had a scene out on Encanto Drive."

"Grissom?" Greg asked.

Warrick shook his head, "He's holed up with Brass."

"Oh."

"They'll be here as soon as they can." Sara assured him.

"So the nurse took you for a swim, huh?" Warrick grinned, "Alone?

Greg rose to the bait, "Yes. She was able to resist the Sanders charm. Just barely."

"Better luck next time." Sara said.

"So how are they treating you? Do you need anything?" Warrick asked, "Book, music?"

"The Rammstein and Psykosonic albums in my locker would be great. The music in here will put you into a coma."

"And Psycosonic will bring you out of one just to get away from hearing it." Sara laughed. "How about food? Are you tired of jello yet?"

"Jello is not a food, it's a garnish. I'd love a steak. I feel like I haven eaten in a week."

Warrick and Sara looked guiltily at one another.

"Hey, I will sneak you in a steak and a baked potato." He promised. "How do you like them?"

"Medium well and butter and pepper."

"If I knew where your coffee was I'd bring you some." Sara hinted.

"Un huh, I'm not telling you where it is Sidle." Greg shook his finger at her. "Forget it."

Warrick checked his watch, "Don't eat whatever mush they bring you, we'll be back with real food."

Grissom laid the evidence bag carefully on the table in front of Brad.

"You're a very tidy person aren't you Brad?" Grissom watched him carefully, "You keep everything very clean, everything in its place."

"Cleanliness is next to Godliness." Brad intoned, "A place for everything and everything in its place."

"You must have been pretty upset when you broke this paintbrush." Grissom pushed the bag closer to Brad. "You didn't clean it."

McKenna fingered the bag, refusing to meet Grissom's eyes. "He wouldn't be quiet, I couldn't concentrate. I had to make him be quiet so I could paint."

"Did you have to make the others be quiet too?"

"They were quiet." McKenna's smile was wistful, "I made beautiful pictures with them."

"How many others?"

Someone knocked on the glass and Grissom looked up to see Brass motioning him to come out into the hall. He went out closing the door behind him.

"What's up, Jim?"

"FBI is." Brass nodded toward the interrogation room. "They want us to stop questioning him until their profiler gets here."

"What?" Grissom asked angrily. "Why?"

"Apparently this guy is a possible link to a string of serial murders that have happened in the last six months or so."

"And how long are we supposed to wait on this guy?"

"Not long." A tall brunette woman stopped beside them. "I'm Jodi Duncan, the FBI profiler." She introduced herself.

Grissom held out his hand, "Gil Grissom, Los Vegas Crime Lab."

Jodi quirked an eyebrow, "The entomologist, Gil Grissom?"

"You've heard of me?"

"I read the paper you published for USSC." She looked past them at McKenna who as sitting at the table staring at the bag, "That our guy?"

"I don't know if he's your guy," Grissom replied angrily "but he is the one who attacked one of my people."

"I want a copy of the report." She pushed past them to enter the room.

"I haven't interviewed my man yet, he's still in ICU." Said Grissom.

"Then I'll do it when I'm through here." Jodi replied.

Grissom looked ready to explode and Brass grabbed his arm, "It's not worth it Gil."

Grissom took a deep breath and let it out slowly, "I'm going out to the Encanto scene. Call me if you need anything."

"Mr. Sanders?"

Greg turned off the TV and forced a smile for the woman who stood in the doorway, "Mr. Sanders is my dad, I'm Greg."

She smiled and came in. "I'm Agent Jodi Duncan," she opened her ID, "FBI. I'd like to ask you a few questions if you feel up to it."

"Okay."

She pulled up a chair and opened up a folder. "I want to ask you about what happened to you after Mr. McKenna abducted you."

Greg's smile faltered, "I… I don't remember much."

"I know it's hard for you, but it's…"

Greg laughed bitterly, "How could you know?"

Jodi put down her pen and paper "I know," she pushed up the sleeves on her shirt exposing scars on her forearms, "Because I've been there too."

"Sorry."

"Don't be." She picked up her pen and paper, "Do you remember anything McKenna said to you?"

Greg stared at the ceiling, "He wanted me to be quiet. He kept telling me to be good and he wouldn't…" Greg's voice broke, "he wouldn't hurt me."

"Anything else?"

"No. He didn't talk to me, except to tell me to behave." Greg's hand clenched the blankets.

"Did he mention anyone else he'd done this to?"

"No."

"Did you see anyone else in the house?" Jodi made notes in the folder, "Was there another man there?"

"No. He kept me in a dark room, I never saw or heard anyone else."

"Do you recall having ever seen McKenna before?"

"The only time I ever got a look at him was when he gagged me with a broken paintbrush." Greg turned away, hiding silent tears behind his hands.

Jodi put her hands on his, "It's okay, you're a survivor."

"Yeah," Greg sobbed, "And I'll just get over it, right?"

"No." Jodi replied softly, "You'll get past it but it takes time and help."

"Does it ever stop?"

"The fear?"

"Yeah."

"I'm not going to lie to you. It goes away," Jodi pulled his hands away from his face, looking him in the eyes, "but sometimes it comes back."

"I'm always going to be like this?" he grew angry, "I'll never be the same again!"

"No, you'll be stronger."

Greg began to cry again, "I'm not strong, I'm afraid all the time."

"Growth takes time," she gently squeezed his hands, "you'll grow stronger."

She sat back down in the chair, but still held his hands, 'Please tell me everything you remember."

FLASHBACK:

The sun was rising; already the day was getting hot. After shift Greg had stopped at the convenience store across the street and bought a bottle of pop and a hot dog. It had been a ritual of sorts for the last six months or so, the clerk had stopping finding his breakfast an oddity and now had it bagged and waiting for him every morning.

Greg ate the hot dog on the way home, sipping on the pop while dodging the morning commuters. He pulled into his space at the apartment complex and waving to the landlord's daughter when he saw her on the stairs. The pop bottle slid out of his hand and he reached across the seat for it when the door opened.

"Just a sec okay Rochelle?" He finally caught hold of the container only to have it slide from his fingers when a jolt of electricity hit his shoulder.

McKenna stood up, one hand on top of the car, the other on top of the doorframe, surveying the grounds and lot. No one appeared to be out. He grabbed the boy's shirt and pulled him from the car.

"Be a good boy," he whispered, "Do what I tell you." He half dragged the boy back to the truck and laid him on the passenger seat and closed the door.

"Don't leave a mess." McKenna went back to the car and picked up the empty pop bottle shoving it into the sack that had contained the hot dog and closed the door. He went back to the truck and got in, driving slowly out of the lot. "Good boy, yes."

Exactly seven minutes later he pulled into the driveway of the house. He went inside dropping the paper bag on the kitchen counter. Leaving the back door open, McKenna went back to the truck and pulled the boy out, walking him into the house.

"Yes. Yes. You'll be a good helper won't you?" McKenna guided him into he bathroom and lifted him into the bathtub.

Greg was still dazed from the taser hit but he was beginning to be more aware of his surroundings. That frightened him. He still didn't have any feeling in his arms and hands but he didn't like the dark room and the wanted away from the strange man.

"No, no, no." Brad said as Greg tried to get away. "Be a good boy now and I won't have to hurt you."

Greg's hands were tied together and pulled up; his feet were barely touching the porcelain bottom of the tub.

"Yes. McKenna pulled off Greg's tennis shoes but left his socks on. "Yes, that's a good boy." McKenna said.

Greg heard the door close and the room was even darker. His heart began to pound and he had a hard time breathing, 'Get a grip Greg." He told himself. 'You're gonna have to keep a clear head if you're going to get out of here.'

He tried to climb the sides of the tub to relieve the pressure on his shoulders but the porcelain was too slick and he kept sliding back down into the deep tub.

Putting his weight on his arms and trying to pull himself up didn't work either; it just gave him a terrible pain in his shoulders and neck.

"Don't do that." Came the voice, close to his ear.

He'd been too busy trying to get free that he hadn't heard McKenna return.

McKenna stepped into the tub pressing close behind him and a scream caught in Greg's throat as he felt the other man's arms curl around his torso.

Greg shivered as the buttons on his shirt were undone one by one.

"Please, please don't do this, said Greg, "Just let me go and I won't say anything to anyone… I swear."

"Your hair smells nice."

"Please don't." Greg tried pull away.

"Be a good boy and hold still." McKenna's breath was hot on his shoulder.

Greg froze as he felt the steel touch his skin. The knife slid under Greg's shirt collar and up the sleeve, cutting the fabric with a buzzing sound.

"God please…" Greg whimpered as his shirt fell away in pieces.

"Shhh, shh," McKenna whispered, "Be a good boy and I won't hurt you."

**CrimsonxBlackxBlood**: When I started this I thought it would be pretty much like all my other attempts at writing: REALLY SHORT! But the more I write, the more I see that needs to be told. What was going to be a five chapter story could end up being over a dozen (provided I keep getting wonderful motivational reviews like yours ;) ) Keep reading and reviewing and the muse will keep whispering in my ear!

I read somewhere once that writers inflict pain and suffering in order to make the characters grow and to show how strong they are.

I'd like to say that's why I do it but the voices in my head disagree with that.

I don't think that we do it because we enjoy seeing them suffer, I think it's more of a hurt/comfort thing. We want to be closer to them and by giving comfort we receive their companionship, something that we crave (whether we want to admit it or not).

**lins**: Greg's strong than anyone thinks, even himself! It's not gonna be easy on his but I bet if we help him, he'll be back to the Greg we know and love in no time.

**radioactiveracoony**: Moi! I haven't done anything! points IT WAS HIM! HE DID IT!


	7. Chap 7 Something To Believe In

A/N: Sadly, I still do not own them and I don't make any money from doing this.

Many thanks to my wonderful beta Fwe, she's quick to help out and you really should check out her stories too!

xCrimsonxBlackxBloodx – This chapter is dedicated to you for you ability to nudge me out of apathy and into continuing the story – thanks!

**Chapter 7 – Something To Believe In**

He didn't feel the blade slice open his shoulder just the warm sticky sensation of blood dripping and the cool rim of the glass jar pressed against his back.

"Yes, yes, that's a good boy." McKenna whispered. "That didn't hurt a bit did it?"

Greg shivered, his knees gave out and he hung from the ropes tying his wrists. He wanted to scream but the fear of the knife kept him silent. At least the wack job hadn't carried on with what he'd feared he do. "Please let me go, people will be looking for me. My boss will come looking for me when I don't show up for work." Greg wished his voice sounded stronger.

"I'll fix that." McKenna said, "later."

The door closed and Greg was left alone in the dark shivering and praying that someone would come looking for him. "Grissom will come." He said. The sound of his voice repeating that over and over was the only thing that kept him from screaming whenever McKenna would come back, opening fresh wounds on his arms, shoulders and back and collecting the blood in a jar.

Though Greg was unaware of it, days passed. He had no concept of time. Occasionally he would fall asleep, resting his head on his arm. Sometimes he'd been awakened by the light being turned on. His muscles would tense. He knew what was coming, McKenna and a very sharp knife. Weak from the pain, blood loss and dehydration, Greg still repeated the mantra that kept him sane, "Grissom will come. Grissom will find me."

"Stop it." McKenna ordered, "Stop saying that, I'm tired of hearing it."

Greg's head lolled against his arm, "Grissom will find me." He said deliriously.

"Shut up!"

"Grissom will come, Grissom will find me."

"I'll make you stop, I will!" Brad screamed. The paintbrush in his hand shattered under the pressure of his clenched fist.

"Grissom will come…"

McKenna grabbed Greg by the hair and drove the broken wood through Greg's cheeks. For several minutes the only sounds in the dark room were McKenna's harsh breathing and Greg's wet coughs.

"You're bad. Bad, see what you made me do? Look at this mess." Blood had spattered across McKenna's hair, face and shoulders. "I have to clean up this mess."

McKenna left and came back with a pungent smelling cleanser. He scrubbed the walls muttering angrily under his breath, "Bad boy, you make it hard for me to work and if I can't work I can't take care of you. Bad, bad, I have to punish you now."

McKenna's words reached the place where Greg had hid himself away in his mind and he whimpered.

"Yes, yes, now you're sorry, but now it's too late. You made me use up all the paper towels and trash bags, you bad boy."

Greg could hear the water running and feel the heat of it on his feet.

"Now I have to stop working and go to the store because you're such a bad, bad boy." McKenna shut off the water, "When I get back you will be punished. You just think about that while I'm gone." The metal clips on the curtain rod rattled as he pulled the shower curtain closed.

There was a popping sound and McKenna cursed. "That was the last light bulb!"

Greg cried, pain and despair clawing at his heart. It made the pain worse, made it harder to swallow and he wondered if he would choke to death on his own blood.

The door slammed and Greg willed himself to try to get free. The damp socks gave him a little purchase on the tub side but he was too weak to reach the edge and he slid back down into the slowly draining water.

Resting his chin on his chest made the blood drip from his mouth, the sounds of the droplets hitting the water in the bottom of the tub was almost deafening in the otherwise silent room.

Greg moaned. He wanted to say the words that kept him going, to hear Grissom's name. Somehow saying it would make it come true. Someone had to be missing him by now.

He had no idea how much time passed when he heard the door open again. Greg's heart thudded in his chest, now McKenna would punish him. He tried to scream but he couldn't open his mouth and the pain was terrible.

The curtain was torn back and a hand touched him and he did scream, a thick and strangled sound.

Voices, someone that sounded like Grissom speaking softly to him and Greg let it carry him away, fearing the punishment to come.

END FLASHBACK

"The next thing I remember was waking up in the hospital," Greg laughed, "Face to face with my boss."

R2R:

**lins**: Don't worry 'bout it, McKenna's a nasty piece of work. Thanks for taking the time to read and review!

**xCrimsonxBlackxBloodx**: I gotta say I love your name shivers, gives me all kinds of angsty plot bunnies! Yeah, cliffies bite don't they? But it can be fun. Yeah, I think wrestling is funny, you know they're just acting. Thanks for reading and reviewing!


	8. Chap 8 Pieces Of Me

**A/N:Sorry, I'm still having problems with getting this thing to accept my scene dividers, guess I'll have to use something other than **

**R2R:**

**lins: **I promise to update if you will too .

**Fwe: **You that keeping me pinned to the computer can be a bad thing… darn plot bunnies are multiplying every second I sit here! Thanks for being more than just a beta **YOU'RE AWESOME!**

**Scribbledream: **Welcome to the madness! As soon as I get a few minutes of 'me time' (maybe when the kids finally fall asleep) I'm going to read **your** stories! I'm glad you liked McKenna at first, that was what I was trying to achieve. I wanted him to seem like a harmless everyday guy who once you get to know him, you find out he's really, really dangerous! I haven't seen that many of the eps so if I'm off on the characters I really would like to be corrected. Thanks!

**SLynn: **Thanksfor reading and reviewing, you know I have to say I love your stories too!

**xCrimsonxBlackxBloodx: **EEEEP! Try not to squeeze me too hard 'cause this one's for you again! 1,000 words (give or take a few) longer than my usual offering. You make my muse HAPPY!

**Chapter 8 – Pieces Of Me**

Grissom was at his desk working on some of the never-ending paperwork that came with being the shift supervisor when someone knocked on his door. He looked up and frowned when he saw agent Duncan.

"We got off to a bad start and I'd like to apologize." she said. "I can get too focused on my job and forget that I'm dealing with real people who have real feelings."

Grissom inclined his head, indicating that she could come in. "It was not the best of introductions." he admitted.

Jodi sat in the chair across from Grissom, dropping a small white paper bag on his desk. "Peace offering. Do you like popcorn?"

Grissom laughed and shook his head, "Everybody likes popcorn but don't you think that's too little to share?"

"It's jellybeans."

Grissom looked at her over the rim of his glasses, "You asked me if I liked popcorn."

"Fat free, sugar free popcorn flavored jellybeans." She opened the bag and took out several yellow speckled white jellybeans, "All the flavor of popcorn without the annoying hulls. Try it. I promise if you like popcorn you'll like these."

Grissom accepted a handful, carefully looking at them and then smelling them before he put one in his mouth. He didn't chew it.

Jodi laughed, "Scientific to the bone aren't you?"

Grissom chewed and swallowed before answering. "I like to be thorough." His brows rose and he smiled, "It does taste like buttered popcorn."

"So you like them?" She pulled another small bag out of her jacket pocket and popped a couple of jellybeans in her mouth. "Another convert."

Grissom ate a couple more, "Did you learn anything from your interrogations today?"

"Not much from the interrogation, but quite a bit from the questioning." Duncan leaned forward and looked directly at Grissom. "I overstepped my bounds this afternoon and I'm sorry. I should have waited for you to accompany me."

"Apology accepted."

"Would it be possible to have a meeting with your staff where we could compare notes?"

Grissom took his time answering her, "After shift if we don't take too long."

"I know you all want to go to the hospital so I'll try to keep it short."

"I'll let everyone know."

Grissom called his team together and told them about Agent Duncan. Catherine and Nick seemed to take the FBI's intrusion personally but Sara and Warrick were enthusiastic about meeting the profiler.

They took seats around the trace table, Grissom was impatient to get things started. "So McKenna chose his victims randomly?" he asked.

"The first two were specific targets." Agent Duncan opened her briefcase, "We believe that they in his mind represented his parents. The others were taken as the opportunity presented. That's why he's been so hard to catch. Most serial have specific targets in mind: prostitutes, drug addicts, young women or young men. McKenna picked from any age group, any gender. He didn't care who they were just that he could get them without being seen. McKenna fits the profile of a

serial killer in some aspects- he's organized and somewhat of a loner…"

"That describes half the people in this room." Sara mumbled.

A smile quirked the corners of agent Duncan's mouth but she continued, "But he didn't do this for sexual gratification as is the most common motivation for these types of crimes." She passed out a map of the area where McKenna had abducted his victims. "You will note that all of his victims were taken from a four mile radius surrounding his house. He felt comfortable 'hunting' in his own backyard as it were." Another sheet marking the dumpsites was handed out, "Only the first two were discarded within that safety zone. Since McKenna is obsessively clean..."

"You can say that again." Nick interrupted.

Duncan rolled her eyes, "That would account for the fact that the others were dumped at sites over eighteen miles away from his residence."

"Taking out the trash."

"That's a harsh way of putting it, Grissom." Said Catherine.

"In McKenna's mind, yes." Jodi replied, "That was exactly what he was doing."

"So why the paintings?" asked Warrick.

"It is McKenna's way of having control over his environment. When his father murdered his mother and then killed himself, Brad had no control over that or the following eight years of his life. He was told where to go, when to eat, where to sleep. It didn't help that his last foster family's dynamics were so unbalanced."

"Do we know what happened to his foster father?"

"No concrete leads but I feel that Brad most likely had something to do with his disappearance."

"Any leads on the girl that bought McKenna's last 'work of art'?" asked Catherine.

"None." Grissom admitted, "The gallery owner pays more attention to his male customers than to the women so we have a description that could fit half the female population of Los Vegas."

"What about the picture?" asked Nick, "Could we put out a flyer asking the purchaser to come in?"

"We're working on that but I'm not sure how well Greg's going to deal with it."

"It's another portrait of him." Sara said. "Isn't it?"

"Yes."

"So all we have is a nondescript girl out there somewhere with a portrait of someone she doesn't know painted in blood." Warrick shook his head, "I don't see high probability of success on retrieving that

painting."

"Who's to say she doesn't know who it's a portrait of."

"Oh Grissom, now that is just creepy!" said Catherine. "Must you be such a ray of sunshine?"

Jodi cleared her throat, "The hardest part of profiling is dealing with the victims and their families. They want and need answers that sometimes we can't give. There are things that we can do to help them cope but most importantly we should be more aware of the things we say." She handed out another set of papers, "The survivors are afraid, jumpy, nervous and even paranoid. The worst thing you can do is to

patronize them and tell them to 'get over it' or 'stop being such a baby'." She looked around at each one of them, noticing the look exchanged between Warrick and Sara.

"They are vulnerable right now, and the way you treat them right now will make the difference of weather they overcome this and become stronger for it or if they retreat and become shadows of themselves." Jodi continued, "They are aware that they are being hyper sensitive and this can make them lash out at the people around them. Don't take this personally, they are angry with themselves, not with you. If you walk away from that, you're reinforcing the belief that they are now worth less to you and they deserve all the bad things that happen to them."

"No one deserves things like that." said Catherine.

"Don't just tell him that, show Greg that he is still a person worthy of your attention." She looked around the room again, "Include him in what ever you do, he needs to feel wanted and useful. He will need some

time alone but don't let him spend too much time away from other people."

Warrick had been reading the paper she handed out, "Wasn't there was a case in Texas where the victim insisted the perp was still following her around even though he was in prison?"

"Yes, he'd stalked her for several months. She'd complained, reported it to security and everyone kept telling her the guy was harmless and not to worry about it."

"He stabbed her seventeen times," said Sara, "that's not harmless."

"But why did she insist he was still stalking her when he was incarcerated?" asked Nick.

"Sometimes the memories of an attack can be so strong that it feels like it's happening again." Jodi explained, "This woman didn't have a good support network. The people around her blamed themselves for the attack and were ashamed for failing to protect her. She mistook their reluctance to be around her for disgust and she ended up in a psychiatric ward for the next four years."

"What happened to the guy who attacked her?" asked Sara.

"He was given an eight year sentence for assault bargained down to four and he got a year off for good behavior. He was out of prison before she got out of the mental hospital."

"That is so wrong." said Warrick.

"That's reality, folks." Agent Duncan's mouth was a tight line. "We don't like it, we have to work to change it."

"What was your profile of McKenna?" Grissom asked.

"Off." She shook her head. "I had him pegged as highly intelligent, mid thirties to early forties and a holding some sort of professional job."

"He's mildly retarded, self employed and twenty-nine."

"Just goes to prove that you can't fit these people in a mold. It would have taken us years to catch this guy with what little evidence we have. You got him in one day."

"We have a more personal motivation." said Grissom.

After the meeting with Agent Duncan, Nick and Sara headed over to the hospital to see Greg. The others had paperwork to finish up before they met them there.

Finding Greg's room empty and the bed made they went to the nurse's station.

"I'm looking for Greg Sanders, has he been moved to another room?" Sara asked.

The nurse consulted a chart, "No, he left about two hours ago."

"He was released already?"

"He signed out AMA."

Sara closed her eyes and shook her head, "What was he thinking?"

"He's sick of Jell-O?" Nick replied.

Sara punched his shoulder, "Rhetorical question."

"Ow!" Nick rubbed his arm. "Rhetorical reply."

Sara pulled out her phone then put it back when she saw the nurse glaring at her. She shrugged apologetically. "Come on, I'll call Gris when we get outside."

When they got back to the truck Sara dialed Grissom and told him about Greg. She could tell he was angry by his clipped replies.

"Should we go by and check in on him?" Sara asked.

"Not right now," Grissom advised, "let him have a couple of hours to get settled before we all show up on his doorstep."

Grissom hung up, sighing deeply.

Catherine who was passing by, heard him and came into the office, "Something wrong?"

"Greg's gone."

"What?"

Grissom shook his head, "He signed out AMA and went home."

"God Gris don't scare me like that!" she put a hand over her heart, "I thought you meant he …"

"Sorry Catherine, I'm tired." Grissom rested his chin on his hands, elbows on the desk. "I guess I wasn't thinking about how that would sound."

"When did he go home?"

"The nurse told Sara he left about two hours ago."

"I can't believe they let him go in the state he's in."

"He's over eighteen and capable of making decisions about his own health." Grissom sighed.

"Not rational ones obviously." said Catherine, also with a sigh. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to call and ask if he plans on coming in to work tomorrow."

"Are you nuts?"

"Agent Duncan said we need to make him feel wanted and if he's feeling good enough to be home, he's feeling good enough to be at work."

Catherine laughed, "You're an evil man, you know that?"

Grissom smiled, "Strangely enough many people have that opinion of me."

After Catherine left he picked up the phone, dialing Greg's number from memory. It rang nine times before it was picked up.

"Why are you home?" Grissom asked.

"Someone had to feed the fish." Greg replied tonelessly.

"Your friend Rochelle has been doing that."

"Yeah, I know that now."

"Are you feeling up to coming back to work?"

"Now?"

"Tomorrow will be soon enough."

"I don't know."

"We could use your help Greg."

"I'll let you know tomorrow," Greg sounded tired. "Okay?"

"That's fine, we really do need you here if you feel like it." Grissom paused, "Do you mind if we came over tonight?"

"I'm pretty tired."

"Another night then. I can bring dinner."

"Maybe." Greg said reluctantly. "I'll let you know."

The lights were on in the DNA lab when Catherine came in. She stepped inside, smiling when she saw the spiky haired tech at the table. "Hey, I'm glad you're back."

"Didn't think you noticed I was gone."

"Cheap shot but I guess I deserved that." Catherine said. "Sorry seems like a pathetic offering but I am sorry. I just thought maybe you were taking time off, it never occurred to me or anyone else that something

was wrong.

"Forget about it." he said, all the while never looking at her. "It doesn't matter anyway."

"I'm not going to forget about it Greg and it does matter. You matter. I should have gone by or called or something to see if you were alright."

He moved slowly, still careful of the healing wounds. The printer dropped the results page and he picked it up and handed it to her without a word.

Catherine took the page, missing the usual big presentation Greg always put on before giving up his results. She looked closer at him, noting the dark lines under his normally sparkling eyes. "Did you sleep last night?"

"Yeah." Greg went back to the mass spectrometer and loaded it up for another session.

"How long have you been here?"

He didn't turn around. "Couple of hours."

"And that's about how much sleep you got, isn't it?"

"I'm fine."

Catherine hated how apathetic his voice sounded. "Does Grissom know you're here?"

"I haven't seen him." Greg rubbed absently at the injury on his cheek.

Catherine remembered the large white bandage that had covered that area after the lab had exploded. "Stitches itch?"

"A little." He admitted. "Don't you have someplace to be?" He finally looked at her and she could see how exhausted he appeared. "I'm not trying to get rid of you but I have work to do. I don't have time to chit chat." He turned back to the analyzer.

"Greg?" she asked cautiously.

"What?" he said back, sounding close to tears.

"I'm glad you're back with us." She wanted so badly to touch him but she was afraid to hurt him. "I really mean that. You're the best lab tech we have."

He didn't reply. Instead, just pressed the keys to start the machine.

Seconds of silence that seemed to last for hours followed and she decided he wasn't going to respond. She was about to turn to leave when she heard him say something. His voice was so soft that she almost

didn't hear him.

"Thanks."

Grissom was relieved to see Greg's car in the lot when he pulled in. Greg's tone of voice when they'd last spoken hadn't been encouraging.

Catherine met him in the break room.

"He's here but I don't think it's because he wants to be." She explained. "I think the only reason he came in is because it's better than being at home alone. He's like a totally different person."

"Give him time." Grissom poured a cup of coffee. He sniffed the brew and frowned, "How long has this been in here?"

"About six hours I'd guess."

"Greg didn't make any coffee?"

"I haven't seen him set foot out of the lab yet and he's been here almost as long as I have."

"That's not good."

"You try talking to him." Catherine said, exasperated. "All I got were monosyllable replies and he practically told me to get lost and leave him alone."

Grissom dumped the coffee in the sink, "Would you mind starting another pot?" and Catherine's glare he added, "Please?"

She rolled her eyes but took the pot from him, "Alright, but I'm not making a habit out of this."

Grissom found Greg standing in the lab, staring out the glass toward the front desk.

"Why are all the walls in this place made out of glass?" Greg didn't look at Grissom. "Why don't we have normal walls like a normal office? And who the hell thought we need doors on three sides?"

"I have no idea." Grissom joined him in staring down the hallway. "It does seem rather imprudent to have everything glass. Especially the front part of this lab. Anyone coming in can see right through here."

"I'm not stupid." Greg said angrily.

"I didn't say you were." Grissom replied. "I'm just agreeing with you about how impractical the design of this lab is." He took off his glasses and faced Greg. "If it will make you more comfortable, we can have the glass in the front tinted or mirrored. We can move the desks too. This is, after all, your lab and you can set it up however works best for you."

Greg closed his eyes, "Sorry. I don't mean to be a pain in the ass."

"I want you to feel comfortable working here, Greg." He stepped in front of the younger man, hoping Greg would look at him. "If that means spending a little money changing the décor of the lab that's fine."

Greg finally met Grissom's eyes, "You mean that?"

Grissom cocked his head, smiling. "I'll even help you move the desks."


	9. Chap 9 One Step Foreword, Two Steps Back

Xombe – I'm glad you like it, I hope I can keep your interest.

Espina Oscura – Thanks for your reviews HUGS Espina I think it's hard to write an OC, it's too easy to make them a Mary/Marty Sue.

Mellaithwen: Angst is my favorite. I have a tendency to write from the end to the beginning and sometimes the end becomes the beginning (does that make any sense at all?) My computer freezes up every time I hit the review button that makes me scream 'cause then I can't go on to the next chapter without rebooting.

nkfm: Thanks, I'm glad you like it. Greg was a little absent in that last chappie but I'll try to focus more on him.

Warricksgirl: Thank You! I hope I won't disappoint you with the next chapters.

Annibal: Glomps Anni If I wanted to be evil I'd end it here but thankfully the muse is still whispering to me, albeit not a lot lately. What I thought would be a few thousand word story is turning into a roller coaster ride of epic proportions and it aint over yet!

Loozy: I'm happy that I still have your interest, I'm glad you like it.

Scribble: Glomps Scribble LOL! You need a parade girl 'cause you're an awesome and inspiring writer! OCs are so hard to write, they're either boring or Mary/Marty Sue's that make you sick in their perfection.

xCrimsonxBlackxBloodx: as Dylan said: "I love hugs, it's the kissing that freaks me out" LOL! Thanks for all your encouragement, without the reviewers, the muse would stop talking to me.

Csi-fan88: Thank you! I'm making this up as I go along so it's kinda scary how well it's fitting together.

lins: Thanks for updating! I'm not sure if my reviews are getting through, stupid computer keeps freezing up. Yes, Grissom does have a softer side, he just hides it so very well.

Sillie:another one of my favorite authors had stopped by! Thanks for the encouragement. I saw a clip of Grissom smiling after Greg passed his test and that has inspired me to make Grissom a more caring character, no one can smile like he did and not care.

FWE! The worlds most patient and understanding beta. Thanks so much for all your help – it's a better story with your help.

---

Hodges stood in the front lobby, arms crossed and frowning at the smoked glass panels that had been installed in the front of the DNA lab. "I've been trying to get a new task chair for a month and Sanders gets to completely remodel his lab." he complained. "Maybe I should fall down and get a boo boo and Grissom will sign my reqresistion request."

"Maybe you should fall down and get dead." Sara sniped, overhearing him.

Archie smiled evilly at the other tech, "And not necessarily in that order."

Hodges eyes narrowed as he watched the other two walk down the hall and into the DNA lab. "Someday that little twerp will get his comeuppance. Then everyone will know who the real genius around here really is."

---

Greg seemed to be in a much better mood after the new glass was installed. With Grissom's help, he'd moved his lab table so that his back was to the wall and he could see all three of the lab entrances. He was smiling and humming along with the music that was playing at nearly its normal volume while he worked. While not yet back to his big productions when he gave his results to the CSIs, Greg was still making them play guessing games before handing over the printouts with his usual flair.

Nick looked up as Greg came in the break room to refill his coffee cup. "Hey Greg, are you hungry? I have a couple of those roast beef sandwiches you like."

"No." he replied tiredly.

"Oh come on, Warrick's not here and I'll have to throw it out if you don't eat it." Nick wheedled.

"What about Grissom?" Greg pulled out a chair across from the CSI and practically fell into it.

"He's already eaten."

"I smell a conspiracy here."

"That's horseradish man." said Nick, pushing one of the sandwiches across the table.

"It's horse something." Greg peeled the sandwich apart. "Got any mustard?"

"I can't believe you ruin a good sandwich with yellow mustard." Nick teased. It was an old argument.

"Horseradish makes your breath stink."

"Horseradish is good for you," Nick tossed a packet of French's to the tech who caught it with practiced ease. "it's like a vegetable or something."

"It's an herb Nick." Greg tore open the packet with his teeth and squirted it over the bread.

"Herb. Vegetable. Same thing." Nick shook some potatoes out onto a paper plate. "Here eat some of these too."

"Curly fries?" Greg smiled.

Nick pulled a small container out of the bag and set it on the table next to Greg's plate. "And buttermilk ranch dressing."

"You know if I didn't like this so much I'd be insulted."

"I know, now stop talking and eat."

"You sound like my mother."

"Want me to call her?" Nick threatened.

"Ha Ha. You don't even know the number."

"Michigan information please," Nick pantomimed talking on the phone, "Norway, Ella Sanders."

"Hey! How'd you know my mother's name?"

"It's in your address book. You left it open on the kitchen table."

"No I didn't."

"Okay, so it wasn't open. I was just checking it out."

"What's the matter? Your little black book getting thin?" Greg leered.

"You can never have too many friends."

Greg laughed and took a bite of the sandwich, chewing thoughtfully. "True." he said.

After eating lunch with Nick, Greg went back to his lab to finish up the results for Sara's case. She showed up just as the printer dropped the final page into the tray.

Greg tried to hide a jaw cracking yawn behind the page he was holding.

"You need to get some sleep." said Sara.

"I'm not tired."

"Then what was that?" she laughed.

"Okay so maybe I could use a nap," he yawned again "but I'm not sleepy."

"Grissom's couch is pretty comfortable and it's quiet in there."

"Except for the hissing cockroaches."

"If you're quiet, they're quiet. Did you eat lunch yet?"

"Why is everyone trying to feed me?"

"Because you didn't eat for three days. Now answer the question."

"It was four days but who cares." He said crossly. "Nick made sure I ate lunch. I had a roast beef sandwich and fries."

"Coffee?" she frowned.

"Duh." He grinned.

"You need water."

"Coffee is water."

Sara rolled her eyes, "God you're difficult!"

"Yeah but I'm worth it." He yawned again, handing her the paper.

Sara took the paper and grabbed his wrist pulling him away from the desk, "Come on."

"Can't resist my charm, can you?"

"I'm putting you down for a nap."

Greg dragged his feet, his good humor disappearing, "I don't want to take a nap."

Sara stopped, "You're not any good to us if you're too tired to do your job without making mistakes."

"Who said I'm making mistakes?" He demanded.

Sara's eyes narrowed as she glared at him.

Greg bit his lip, "I don't want to sleep."

"You need to." She tugged him out into the hall, "Now stop acting like a child and do what I told you."

Greg allowed her to lead him to Grissom's office, he watched with half closed eyes as she unfolded an afghan.

"Lay down." she said.

"You know," he laughed nervously, "This is not quite the way I pictured it when you said those words to me."

Losing her patience, Sara pushed him onto the couch, "Lay down." She said angrily.

"Don't…" Greg's voice was shaky as he did as she told him. "Don't turn off the lights."

Sara immediately regretted her loss of temper, "It's okay, you just rest. I'll leave the lights on." She covered him up, "Just try to sleep for a couple of hours at least okay?"

Greg lay stiffly on the couch after Sara left. He didn't want to close his eyes. If he closed his eyes he'd fall asleep. In his dreams he was back in McKenna's house. In his dreams he could feel hands on him, hear words of affection whispered and for moments he felt safe. Then the pain came and tore all the comfort away and he would wake himself with screams that left his throat raw.

He didn't want that to happen here where they could hear him. Didn't want to see the pity on their faces. He was ashamed to be such a burden on them now, they felt the need to watch over him and it took them from their jobs because he was such a coward and a weakling. He scrubbed away the tears, Nick hadn't been such a crybaby after Crane had attacked him. Why couldn't he be more like Nick? If he were more like the Texan maybe they'd like him too.

---

Grissom was heading down to the morgue when his cell phone rang, it was Agent Duncan calling.

"Dr. Grissom I wanted to let you know I'm headed to Del Norte to interview the foster mother."

"Will you be coming back to Vegas?"

"Before I head back to Virginia I'm going to talk to McKenna again and probably Greg. How is he doing?"

Though she couldn't see him, Grissom still shrugged. "He's doing okay, almost back to his usual self."

"That's not good."

Grissom made a face, "How is that not good?"

"He's hiding his feelings instead of facing it. He doesn't want anyone to see him as weak so he's pretending that it didn't affect him."

"And he needs to face his fear."

Duncan gave a harsh short laugh, "His fear will surface and when it does he's going to need all his friends there to help him, especially you."

"Why especially me?"

"For an analytical scientist you sure have a hard time seeing the forest for the trees, Dr. Grissom. Greg idolizes you." When Grissom didn't reply, she continued. "You are the one rock solid constant in his life, the surety that you would find him and rescue him was the only thing that kept him sane while McKenna had him."

Grissom was stunned. Yes, Catherine had once brought it to his attention that he had a tendency to overlook the thoughts and behaviors of his co-workers, but this… "I don't know what to say." Grissom mumbled.

"Say you'll keep an eye on him."

"Both, when I have the opportunity." Grissom said goodbye to her and turned to go back to his office to check on Greg. He tried to move quietly but he still startled the lab tech who practically bolted off the couch.

"I'm sorry." Grissom apologized, "I was trying to be quiet."

Greg clutched the afghan against his chest, eyes wide with fear. "Don't." he panted, "Don't sneak up on me like that just... just you know, make noise like you always do."

"Are you alright?"

Greg's hands shook as he folded the afghan and put it back on the couch, "Yeah, I'm good. I had a nice nap." He didn't look at Grissom as he slipped past him, "I should get back to work now."

---

Greg had gathered up the excess sample containers to take to the storage room. He put the last of them in the box and carried it out into the hall. Hodges glared at him as he passed the other lab, Greg stuck his tongue out at the older man. Hodges reminded him of a terrier; small and loud but basically harmless. Greg balanced the box on his hip while he unlocked the storage room door. The room really wasn't room sized, more like a small closet. It didn't even have a light fixture. He was wedging the box into a space on the top shelf when the door suddenly slammed closed, the clicking of the lock loud in the confined space.

"Okay, not funny!" Greg shouted, twisting the door knob, "Let me out!" The door would not open and he clawed at the knob trying desperately to unlock it. There was not a button on the interior knob, the door could only be locked and unlocked using a key on the outside. He'd left his keys in the knob when he'd opened it.

Greg pounded on the door, cursing.

"Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?" a voice hissed. "Does she know what a bad boy you are?"

Greg froze, his breath trapped behind the lump in his throat. He fell back against the shelves and slid down to crouch on the floor. His voice was soft, frightened, "Go away, go away…" The darkness enveloped him and he could feel sticky warmth trickling down his back.

---


	10. Chap 10 Old Wounds

Kenzimone I love Greg angst too! I hope I added enough in this chapter to make it tasty.

Sillie Well… I'm not completely certain who actually locked the door.

Matteic Don't do what? Torture Greggo? Leave my readers with a cliffie? Show Hodges as an evil mastermind? Evil laugh

Espina Oscura Well mean old Hodges did do something mean…

Lins Yep, Hodges is a jerk huh?

Emmithar You know even your reviews are like an epic read!  Can I steal that line 'Feeling so weak, and wanting to be strong' and use it in one of my fics?

ladyjr16 Yikes! You know if I didn't think Hodges was such a jerk I might warn him about your temper 

Annibal Really? Sometimes I think it's too predictable but then again the muse hits me with stuff that makes me go :WAITAMINUTE! It's weird but I meant for McKenna to be just a minor character but he's turning out to be really interesting. I thought this fic would only be a couple of chapters long but the muse keeps whispering and I'm still excited about it!

Nkfm Glomps nkfm Thanks, I'll take VERY good care of him! snuggles Greggo tightly

Xombe HeHeHe, I love suspense and angst!

ScribbleDream I'm glad you're still enjoying it. I'm a N/G shipper with a little Sara tossed in sometimes just to shake things up.

aLeX24 Pook Hodges, he's on a list… should somebody warn him? Nah!

xCrimsonxBlackxBloodx Aha! Another impatient person! I have very little patience and a short span of attention so really a fic this long is like a once in a lifetime thing for me. Is your muse hanging out with my Andromeda muse? My 'drom muse deserted me before giving me the final chapter and I have people threatening me and my Harper clones!

And to my wonderful, marvelous, ever patient, kind, intelligent, talented beta FWE: I'm sorry I told you this would be a short fic only a couple of chapters long. Thanks for sticking with me and keeping me on the right track with this. You're amazing!

Chapter 10- Old Wounds ---

Greg allowed himself to be pulled to his feet; numbly he followed the man outside to the parking lot. Only when he was pushed toward the red pick up did he begin to resist. He tried to return to the lab but was

pulled back by a savage yank on the collar of his lab coat. He pulled free of the garment and made it half way back to the building when something heavy struck him on the back of the head and the last thing he saw was the pavement rapidly coming up to meet him.

"Dr. Grissom!" Jodi called as she jogged down the hallway trying to catch up with the CSI supervisor. "Dr. Grissom, wait!"

"Agent Duncan." Grissom slowed, smiling. "Back so soon?"

"I have some new evidence and I thought you might want to sit in while I interview McKenna again."

"It'll have to wait; McKenna has been at Desert Palms," he checked his watch, "for the last three hours."

"Three hours?" Jodi whistled softly, "Why?"

"He had a petit mal seizure so they sent him down for an MRI."

"Three hours for a brain scan? McKenna probably doesn't have enough brain cells left to need a half hour MRI." Grissom stopped walking and Jodi almost ran into him.

"Excuse me?"

Duncan handed Grissom a thick file, "I talked to his foster mother, she said her ex-husband used to discipline Brad by putting a taser to the back of his head and shocking him unconscious."

Grissom looked sickened by the news, he opened the folder and paged through it, "This went on for six years?"

"At least. Mrs. Rhodes said Brad ran away about two years ago and her husband left her shortly after that." Jodi followed Grissom into his office and sat down in the chair she'd occupied yesterday. Grissom sat down, continuing to page through the folder.

"Does she know where Mr. Rhodes is now?"

"According to her, he's a paramedic with Reno EMS." Jodi leaned forward, pointing to one of the pages, "I think that taser you recovered from Sander's car may have belonged to Rhodes. It fits the description Mrs. Rhodes gave me of the one her ex-husbanded owned."

"So if Mr. Rhodes is alive and well living in Reno how did Brad wind up with the gun?"

"Good question." Jodi smiled grimly, "One I'd like to ask McKenna."

"I think we should." Gil picked up his phone and dialed Brass' office. No one answered so he flipped through his rolodex and found the police captain's cell number.

"Take it easy," said Jodi, wincing at the force Grissom was using to punch in the numbers, "You're going to break something."

"Jim? It's Gil. Agent Duncan is back with some new evidence and we'd like to question McKenna some more." He listened a moment, anger twisting his mouth into a hard line. "And who's responsible for that? Keep me posted." He slammed the phone down, cursing softly. At Jodi's curious look he said, "McKenna's gone. He walked out of the exam room. They're searching the hospital now."

She threw her hands up, "Well that's just great!" She got up and began to pace, "Why wasn't he secured or at least have a uniform watching him?"

"The officer transporting him deemed him not a threat. He didn't think McKenna would wander off since he seemed to be so fascinated with the MRI machine."

"Idiots." She continued to pace, arms crossed over her chest, "You can never predict what they'll do next." She grumbled.

"Are you talking about McKenna or the officer?" Grissom asked. Jodi stopped and looked at Grissom; she couldn't help but smile at his grin.

"Both I suppose."

"Brass has a car checking McKenna's house in case he goes back there."

"If he has left the hospital that's where he'll go." She picked up the folder from Grissom's desk, "If we can't talk to McKenna, let's ask Greg what he remembers." They didn't find the young tech in his lab nor was he in any of his usual haunts. Grissom found Catherine, Nick and Sara in the break room, "Has anyone seen Greg?" he asked.

"This is like déjà vu." said Catherine. "Haven't we had this conversation before?"

"He was moving some stuff into the storage room the last time I saw him." said Sara.

"He can't have gone too far," Nick laughed. "I found his keys in the doorknob." Grissom raised his eyebrow and Nick laughed again, "Who else has a goth Hello Kitty key ring?"

"He must be here somewhere then." Grissom shook his head, "I'll check the closet."

"You can't accidentally lock yourself in there." Said Nick. "It only locks with a key from the outside." Jodi laid a hand on Gil's arm, there was a peculiar expression in her eyes.

"Wouldn't hurt to check it anyway."

Out in the hallway Grissom turned and softly asked, "Do you think he's hiding?"

"It's possible," Jodi replied just as quietly. "Fear can make a person do things that seem unlikely at other times." Greg's keys were still hanging in the knob, the door was not locked. Grissom opened it slowly.

"He's not in here." He started to close the door when something caught his eye. "Could you wait right here? Don't let anyone touch anything in here." Grissom asked Jodi. "I'll be right back."

Jodi looked curious but nodded, "Sure." Grissom hurried back down the hall and quickly returned carrying a small flashlight and several swabs.

"What is it?" Jodi asked as Grissom returned. "What did you find?"

Grissom shined the flashlight on the edge of one of the lower shelves.

"See that?"

"Is that blood?"

"We're about to find out." He moistened the swab and wiped it across the dark stain. Putting a few drops of phenolphthalein on the swab, he watched as it turned blue. "Positive for human blood." He said.

"How would it get in here?" she asked. "You don't store evidence in here do you?"

"No."

"Do you think it's Greg's?"

"It's pretty fresh. I'd say the odds are high that it is." Grissom shone the light on the floor but found no more blood. He carefully searched the rest of the closet but found nothing more. Looking up, he saw Hodges peering out the door of his lab. Grissom gritted his teeth and headed for the lab. When Hodges saw him coming he ducked back inside.

"I didn't do anything to him." Hodges said.

"You are being awfully quick with the denials David." Grissom crossed his arms and stared angrily at the tech. "Is there anything you'd like to share with me about Greg?"

"I didn't touch the little punk." Hodges averted his eyes and busied his hands with the samples on the desk.

"Did you lock him in the storage closet?"

Hodges shrugged, "I may have accidentally kicked the door closed."

"That's all you did?"

"I did not lock the little crybaby in there." Hodges turned and looked Grissom in the eye. "All I did was close the door on him and walk away."

"So where is he now?"

"He left." Hodges voice sounded suspiciously guilty.

"Alone?" Jodi asked, aghast at the other man's indifference.

"One of the uniforms was with him." Hodges said defensively.

"When, Hodges?" Gil asked.

"An hour ago maybe."

"You self-centered son of a …" Grissom had to grab Duncan's arm and pull her away as she was about the strike the lab tech.

"We're not helping Greg like this." Grissom said. "We need to find him."

Nick came rushing up to them, clutching a blue lab coat, "I found this in the parking lot," he said breathlessly. "There's blood." He turned the smock to reveal the ID still clipped to the lapel, "It's Greg's." Nick's voice was anxious.

Grissom pulled out his cell phone, pressed the speed dial and got Brass on the line. "Have you found McKenna yet?" He listened for a moment, then turned to the FBI agent, "He never returned to his house, where

else would he go?"

Jodi thought for a moment, eyes widening when she realized what Grissom was thinking. "Dump site. If he's getting rid of Greg, He'll dump him in the desert."

"Meet us off I15 near where the last body was found." Grissom told Brass. He grabbed agent Duncan's arm and headed outside.

"I'm coming with you." Nick said. Grissom didn't waste time arguing, he got in the Tahoe and started the engine. The doors were barely closed as he peeled out of the parking lot heading west.

"You made the mess." Bruce's voice was low and angry. "This time you have to clean it up."

"I did." Brad whimpered, "I did clean it up."

"Not everything." Bruce dragged Greg out of the truck, "There's still the matter of this."

"What do you want me to do?" Brad's voice trembled.

"I get rid of your trash but you have to kill him first."

"No! I don't kill!" Brad protested.

"Really?" Bruce asked sarcastically. "Then how did all those bodies end up in your bathtub?"

"They just die, it's not my fault!"

"Kill him." Rhodes shoved Greg foreword and the tech stumbled and collapsed to the ground at McKenna's feet.

"I can't!" Brad insisted.

"Do it!"

"NO!"

"You want to end up in the desert?" Bruce threatened. "I won't hesitate to leave you out here just like I did the others." He handed Brad a long bladed knife. "Kill him or you'll die out here with him."

Brad took the knife, staring at Bruce with fearful eyes. His hands shook and his lower lip trembled.

Greg refused to die on his knees, he got his feet, swaying and glared at Brad. He lifted his chin, daring the young man to draw the knife across his neck.

Tears spilled down his cheeks as Brad held the knife more as if he were desperately trying to ward Greg off rather than in an attempt to murder him. "I'm sorry!" He cried. "I'm sorry."

Greg looked Brad straight in the eyes, hating him for every moment of torment. Every second of pain and fear he wished he could give it all back to him.

"Finish what you started." Greg said. "Coward."

Time may heal all wounds but he didn't think he could wait; death would end the fear and the shame. He shivered, anticipating the kiss of the sharp steel. Brad stepped back and Greg stepped toward him.

"Kill him!" Bruce demanded.

"I'm already dead." Greg said quietly, "You just have to finish it."

Brad paled, "I want to go home. I just want to go home."

"Kill me" Greg kept advancing even as Brad retreated. "And then" Greg replied tonelessly. "You can go home."

Brad held the knife out and Greg stepped foreword, feeling the sharp steel slide between his ribs. He caught Brad's hand with both of his, forcing the blade in deeper. It didn't hurt as much as he thought it

would, just a pressure that released as he fell. The sand under him was warm and he watched with a sense of detached scientific curiosity as the grains settled in the rapidly growing pool of blood that poured from the wound in his chest. Greg tried to laugh but it hurt, his heart felt like it was trying to leap from his chest. He could taste metal.

His hands clutched into the sand as though he were trying to anchor himself to the ground. He coughed as the wind stirred his hair into his eyes. He began to cry, tears mixing in the sand with his blood. He heard screeching tires, doors slamming. Gunfire and familiar voices. A harsh laugh escaped his lips; at least he'd left the CSI team with an interesting scene to process. And Brass, the police captain would be

furious; how could he charge McKenna with murder when Greg had been the one to drive the weapon into his own heart?

Hands turned him onto his back and he wanted to scream when he realized it was Grissom.

"Let … go." Greg managed to say.

"Shh." Said Grissom pressing his hand over the wound. Greg arched against the pain.

"You're safe now. Everything's going to be alright."

"No." Greg sobbed. "Let me go."

"McKenna can't hurt you anymore, you're safe." Grissom insisted.

"Just… let… me go." He tried to pull Grissom's hand away but other hands caught his.

"Hey," Nick said in his soft Texas accent, "We're never gonna leggo our Greggo."

TBC


	11. Chap 11 I Open My Eyes

**Chapter 11 – I Open My Eyes**

I open my eyes

I try to see but I'm blinded by the white light

I can't remember how

I can't remember why

I'm lying here tonight

And I can't stand the pain

And I can't make it go away

No I can't stand the pain

How could this happen to me

I made my mistakes

I've got no where to run

The night goes on

As I'm fading away

I'm sick of this life

I just wanna scream

How could this happen to me

Everybody's screaming

I try to make a sound but no one hears me

I'm slipping off the edge

I'm hanging by a thread

I wanna start this over again

So I try to hold onto a time when nothing mattered

And I can't explain what happened

And I can't erase the things that I've done

No I can't

How could this happen to me

I made my mistakes

I've got no where to run

The night goes on

As I'm fading away

I'm sick of this life

I just wanna scream

How could this happen to me

I made my mistakes

I've got no where to run

The night goes on

As I'm fading away

I'm sick of this life

I just wanna scream

How could this happen to me

**OoO**

Grissom had reluctantly released his hold on Greg to allow the paramedics to take over. He'd hovered over them like a mother hen, quiet but absolute in his intention to stay as close a possible. Their haste in stabilizing the young man and loading him onto the ambulance had done nothing to alleviate his worry over the seriousness of the wound.

Grissom left Brass and his officers to clear the scene. Nick and Jodi joined him in the truck and he followed the ambulance to the hospital. The ride was tense and silent. After they parked and got out Jodi explained that she needed to check on McKenna and she'd meet them as soon as she could to get an update on Greg.

Grissom had paced the waiting room like a caged animal, Nick had stood staring out the window. When the nurse had finally came back with news on Greg, it was not very informative, just that he was in surgery and would most likely be there for a couple of hours. Grissom still called Catherine to have her relay the news to everyone. What seemed like hours later, Gil met Jodi by the elevators. Nick, still upset and unable to formulate a plan of action followed.

"How is he?" Grissom and Jodi ask each other simultaneously.

Grissom laughed nervously and then cleared his throat, "You first."

"It was a through and through, McKenna's going to be fine." She replied.

"All we know is that Greg is stable and he'll be in surgery for at least two hours."

"He's a tough kid."

"What about Rhodes?" Gil asked. "Are they going to charge him?"

"As you know these isn't any forensic evidence linking him to any of the crimes. They have him on assault and kidnapping but I'm afraid that's all we can do."

"Should a killed 'em both," said Nick, "Would have saved us all a lot of trouble."

"You should go home and get some sleep Nick." Said Grissom.

"You'll see things more clearly after you've gotten some rest." Jodi added.

"I'd like to see and hear a hell of a lot less of you!" Nick growled.

Grissom glared at the younger man, "Greg won't be out of surgery for at least two hours and they still won't let anyone see him until he's moved to a room," said Grissom . "Let's all go home and get some rest. We can come back later when we're a little less short-tempered."

Nick gave Jodi a fiery glare before turning back to Grissom, "I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying right here until that doctor tells us what's going on." Nick walked over to stare out the window.

"He's a good man." Grissom explained, "He just takes things personally."

"Not a bad quality." Jodi smiled.

"Can I give you a lift back to your car?"

"Thanks but I need to get back with Captain Brass and finish up my report." Her shoulders tensed, "My boss is wanting an update on this mess."

"I guess we're all staying then."

"You're not going to take your own advice?"

"I give advice, I never follow."

Jodi shook her head and chuckled, "Typical male."

"Are you profiling me?"

"Impossible," Collapsing onto one of the uncomfortable chairs she pulled out her laptop and opened the case file she was working on. "you don't really fit into any known category."

Grissom laughed, "Then I'll let you get back to your report."

The cursor blinked where she'd ended the report two days ago. She read over the last couple of lines and shivered. Eighth victim: Greg Sanders C.O.D. Undetermined – body not recovered.

There had to be an end to this. Closure of some kind. This case was affecting her like no other had, but this case involved a living breathing victim not one of the silent ghosts that so often imprinted themselves indelibly in her memory.

'_Is it selfish of me to want him to survive?'_ she asked herself. _'Am I doing him an unkindness in forcing him to live with the horrors he's endured?'_

She erased the final entry, making the decision that there would be no eighth victim for the Taser Killer. She had several weeks of vacation time accumulated and Vegas seemed like as good a place to spend them as any.

Two hours of waiting, pacing the hospital, and drinking coffee that would probably eat the wax off the floor if it spilled. Two hours of wondering if the whole thing had been some kind of nightmare, a hallucination brought on by stress and lack of sleep. Two hours of worrying about what the next action would be. Would the surgeons have good news or bad?

When the doctor finally came in, the expression on his face made Nick's stomach clench.

"He's quite a fighter," the surgeon said tiredly. "It wasn't an easy procedure. The blade missed the major veins and arteries but it did pierce the apex of the heart. I was able to suture the cut but he needs to stay calm so he doesn't tear the stitches."

"Can we see him?" Nick asked.

"Yes. He's pretty weak though. Which means he'll tire easily, so don't stay long."

Nick smiled for the first time in hours, he sighed in relief, "Thanks Doc."

They followed the nurse down to the room where Greg lay. Nick went inside, standing silently by the bed while Grissom and agent Duncan spoke softly outside.

Grissom rubbed his tired eyes with the back of his hand, "Tell me that wasn't what it looked like."

"I wish I could, but we both saw it."

"Saw what?" Nick asked.

"Forget it Nick. It doesn't concern you."

"If it's about Greg it's my concern." Nick said, joining them in the doorway. "Greg is my friend."

"McKenna said he didn't stab Greg." Jodi said.

"I don't give a damn about what kind of a crazy lie he gave the cops." Nick retorted. "I saw that bastard stab him."

"That's not what happened Nick." Said Grissom.

"Are you crazy? We saw it! McKenna tried to kill him!"

"McKenna was trying to get away from him."

"Bullshit!" Nick said, "He was trying to kill Greg and get away. That's why Brass shot him and it's a pity Brass didn't kill him!"

**OoO**

Greg woke slowly, to the sound of angry voices. He recognized Nick's accent and Grissom's dull whisper of a yell. He lifted his right hand, pulled off the nasal canula letting it drop to the floor. The arguing continued, now with a woman's voice he vaguely remembered. He let his fingers flutter over his bandaged chest, catching on the cardiac monitor leads. He yanked them off, the steady blip ceased and was replaced by a long annoying tone that grated on his nerves. He pulled on the tube that protruded from the left side of his chest, the pain was excruciating. His scream echoed into the hall and he lost consciousness.

**OoO**

"Calm down or they're going to make us leave." Jodi reasoned.

Nick glared at her and took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. "Greg wouldn't do that." He said calmly. "He's not suicidal."

"Greg's been through a lot lately. He's not thinking clearly and he …"

"You don't know Greg so why don't you just keep your lunatic opinions to yourself!"

Jodi's angry reply was drowned out by the alarm from inside Greg's room. Nurses pulled them away as medical personnel flooded the room.

**OoO**

**Xombe** – It just seemed like the sort of thing Nick would say.

**ladyjr16** – Yes he will live, I cannot kill the Greg, he's too cute to die (yet anyway)

**Lizack** – I'm glad you found me, encouraging reviews are … encouraging!

**Emmithar** – hmmm… kill Hodges. I think I have another plot bunny!

**CatherineLouise** – Thank you! Sometimes I'm afraid to put in to much detail, it seems like TMI that the reader may not be interested in so it's a balancing act between getting a good feel for the situation and overkill with boring details. I'm glad it's making you cry evil grin Have another box of tissues!

**a random -** THANK YOU! I'm glad you are enjoying it so far; I hope I won't disappoint you.

**Lins - **They don't always remember to show how much they care but they really do.

**Sillie** – Isn't it fun to torture poor Greggie just so we can snuggle him!

**Doggies45** – I'm not much of a romance writer but the last scene was written just for YOU! Sara spends a lot of time with Greg in S5 so it seems she'd develop some feelings for him.

**Mellaithwen – **Yep, I LOVE GREG ANGST! And you were right, Greg knew who he was talking to, he just didn't want Grissom to rescue him. Thank you for adding to the plot, it didn't occur to me that they might have seen Greg. I listen to music almost constantly, so sometimes lyrics and song titles are just too perfect for chapter and story titles, gotta use them!

**Eveningshade** – Believe it or not until last week I'd only seen a few of the episodes, mostly S3 and S4. Finally got TV and get to see S1 on Spike and S5 on local. OH THE PLOT BUNNIES! It seems like Gil, Brass and Sara have changed drastically since S1 or maybe that's just me…

Anywho, I'm glad you're enjoying it and I hope to keep you coming back for more!

**tvspaz626** – I do have a fic where Greg dies but I haven't done much with it yet, this story has kind of taken over all my imagination at the moment and I don't plan on him dying in this, just tons and tons of angst!

**Loozy** - hands Loozy a super size box of tissues I guess that means you like it? Well get ready for more angst!

**xCrimsonxBlackxBloodx** – I have the absolute best beta in the known universes! I finally got to see the ep where Nick utters that line to Catherine and it just seemed to fit perfectly there.

I like a little humor, it kind of kicks up the angst a little more and I have to admit it but I thought McKenna's 'they just die' was pretty funny too!

Huggles to you my faithful reader, I live to serve!

**Matteic- **I hear that word connected with my name rather frequently LOL!

**mellowyellow36** - Thanks, I hope I continue to keep you entertained

**Annibal** - Merci. Vous êtes trop gentil. Merci pour lire et prendre le temps pour réexaminer, il signifie beaucoup à moi, Le Harper et Greg angst à jamais !

Disclaimer 

I do NOT own CSI or the characters portrayed therein. I do NOT own the copywrite to the words to the songs used – Untitled is the property of Simple Plan, the lullaby Sara sings is a song my mother used to sing, where it came from I have no idea and sadly I cannot ask her. I make no money from this endeavor, however the feedback whether good or flames makes me smile, thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed and even those of you who only read!

**A/N: To my beta Fwe: **Without your unwavering assistance this would be just a rambling mess of spelling and punctuation errors. When the muse has abandoned me in crucial parts, you have always stepped in and made it gold. When I asked for a beta, I said it would be only a couple of chapters, about 25,000 words and when it snowballed into this, you stuck with me. You took time out of your weekends to beta the chapters and rush them back to me. Thanks for all your help – YOU'RE AWESOME!

And to my favorite authors: It is by reading other people's work that I get inspiration for my own, thank you for sharing your stories with me.

Any praise that is given to me for my work is partially yours, flames are for my garden, it keeps the lizards warm ;P


	12. Chap 12 A Cry For Hope

**Chapter 12 - A Cry For Hope**

People were rushing around, giving orders in clipped tones and all the while the three visitors from the crime lab were ignored. Jodi tried to keep them back, but Grissom's and Nick's worry kept them returning to the doorway: hoping for good news.

"What are they doing?" Nick asked angrily, trying to see past the constantly moving mass of people.

Jodi tried to pull him back by the arm but let go at his furious glare.

"You're not helping him by distracting the doctors." Grissom said.

"And you are?" Nick retorted.

Grissom smiled ruefully, "I suppose not."

"They'll tell us what's going on, we just have to get out of their way and let them do their job." Jodi said.

Grissom looked abashed, "Of course, you're right." He looked at Nick, "Let's go back to the waiting room and," he laughed, "wait."

The two CSIs followed the profiler back down to the waiting room. It was several minutes before the nurse came back, smiling.

"Is he okay?" asked Nick. "What happened?"

"He doing as well as could be expected. Sometimes when people come out from under the anesthesia they're confused and frightened." Her smile disappeared, "He needs peace and quiet."

It was Nick's turn to look abashed, "I'm sorry about that, I shouldn't have lost my temper and made so much noise." He looked like a boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar, "I'll be quiet, I swear."

"No more visitors tonight." The nurse said, her tone brooking no arguing or pleading. "If he's calmer tomorrow you can see him then."

Nick looked disappointed but he didn't protest. "Yes, ma'am."

They were silent on the ride back to the lab, each lost in thoughts they didn't share.

Nick uttered a barely audible "goodbye" as he got into his truck, Jodi said nothing as she opened her car and Grissom stood for a moment staring at the building before he too got into his vehicle and left.

**OoO**

Nick tossed and turned in his bed back at his apartment. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't get to sleep. Every time he closed his eyes he could see Greg lying on the sand, his life pooling in a red aura around him that faded into the soft yellow grains that surrounded him in all directions.

A gentle breeze blowing across his back as he looked over the edge of the chasm where he lay waiting in the comfortable darkness, his hands dangling over the edge of the bed. Without warning, a pale hand suddenly clasped his.

It didn't scare him, he'd been waiting for this. Not quite anticipating it, but still hoping it would happen. Nick smiled and flexed his arm, pulling the person up effortlessly. The complete darkness was almost absolute and swallowed any sounds that dared make their way through reality. He saw the spiky blond hair and beneath that the deep brown eyes. Sad lips formed words that he couldn't hear, couldn't understand, and the hand that held onto his loosened and fell away back into the darkness from which it had been borne.

Nick awoke with a scream, sweat pouring from his face. The cool breeze still blew onto his skin, but it no longer felt as welcoming as it had. It now felt like a ghost's touch, cooling the sweat that covered his body yet never really touching him. More reminiscent of a whisper than a touch...

Slowly, he got out of bed, not caring to notice the blankets that had been strewn onto the floor during the night as he stepped on them. Even after a scalding hot shower and two cups of coffee, he still looked like a walking corpse, but Nick didn't care. He was not going to go back to sleep. He sat on the couch staring at the television, not hearing or seeing anything that was going on. Sometime later he dozed off, waking hours later with unsettling memories of dreams he didn't want to recall.

His coffee had cooled into something of a radioactive sludge, and he had the misfortune to drink it directly from his cup he had set on the table beside the couch before he realized it. Pouring it out, he started a fresh pot while getting dressed in his room. He glanced at the clock and saw that by the time he made it to Desert Palms, visiting hours would have begun.

**OoO**

The nurse told him that Greg couldn't have visitors yet; the doctors were still examining him so Nick waited, pacing impatiently in the hallway. A hand on his arm stopped him after about the ninth pass and he looked up to see Grissom.

"You look like hell." He told the older man.

"And you look like something that escaped from Doc Robbins." Grissom rumbled.

"I kinda feel like it too."

"You didn't sleep well either I take it."

"Nope."

"Have you seen Agent Duncan?"

Nick rubbed the back of his neck, "No." His cheeks flushed, "I was a real ass to her yesterday."

"I won't disagree with you on that."

"When I see her again I'm going to apologize."

Grissom nodded. "Here comes the doctor."

"Are you Mr. Grissom?" the doctor asked.

"Yes."

"I'm Doctor Pendergraft." the doctor said, reaching out to shake Grisson's hand. "Before you go back to see your friend I need to explain some things first." He looked grim. "Mr. Sanders has been uncooperative with our efforts to treat him. He has been aggressive and self-destructive in the last twelve hours and because of that we have placed him in physical restraints."

"Wouldn't it have been better to sedate him?" Grissom asked.

"We've given him a light sedative to help calm him. The heavier sedative would repress the respiratory functions and we'd end up putting him on a ventilator. I don't think that's an advisable treatment right now."

"And tying him up seems like a good idea?" Nick asked sarcastically.

"He's been striking the staff, removing monitors, pulling out IVs. He even tried to take out the chest tube." The doctor explained. "We're doing this in order to help him, not to hurt him. I've left instructions with the nurses that he is to have a restricted visitors list, only three people will be allowed to see him until his condition improves."

"I'm sure this won't last long." Grissom calmed Nick. "Greg will be back to himself in no time."

The doctor continued, "Under no circumstances are anyone but the medical staff to remove the restraints. You may not bring him any sharp objects such as nail care tools, razors or writing instruments. No glass containers of any kind are allowed and you are not to bring him clothing. If he becomes upset you will leave immediately or you will be removed and not allowed to return."

"So who is going to be on his approved visitor list?" Nick was calmer now.

"You and I and Sara for now." Said Grissom. "I think would be the best."

"As long as he stays calm, you can be with him whenever you want." Said the doctor. "With the sedatives we have him on he may not always be lucid, don't be alarmed if he seems disoriented or sleepy."

"When can we see him?" Nick said, speaking up again.

Grissom smiled, the Texan was nervously shifting from foot to foot, his fingers tapping at the sides of his legs in an upeven tattoo, "Patience grasshopper."

Nick smiled, "I'm cool, really I am."

"You can go on back now, just remember the rules." Dr. Pendergraft reminded him.

Nick started down the hall then hesitated and turned back to Grissom, "You want to go first?"

Grissom shook his head, "No, you go on, tell him I'll be by later okay?"

Nick grinned, "Sure."

Nick tamped down the angry spark that rose when he saw how Greg's hands had been tied to the bed. He told himself that it was just a temporary thing. Greg wasn't crazy, just still under the influence of whatever medications he was on that made him act this way. He stood quietly by the bed, taking careful inventory of all the bandages and bruises on his friend.

Greg's hair was it's usual mess, sticking up at odd angles. His cheekbones seemed sharper and his eyes set deeper. Ugly stitches closed the knife wound on his chest, it looked red and puffy. The skin around the chest tube appeared swollen too and Nick remembered that the doctor had said Greg had tried to pull that out. Nick winced, he couldn't image how painful that must have been. The back of Greg's right hand was one massive bruise where the i.v. had been yanked out, the needle had been placed instead in the crook of his right elbow and taped securely down. The cuts on his shoulders and arms had faded, even the wounds on his cheeks were looking much better. He was startled out of his examination by Greg's scratchy voice.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer."

"Hey man. Sorry, you just look … uh..."

"If I look anything like I feel right now then the word you're looking for would be 'crap'."

Nick was encouraged by Greg's attempt to joke with him, "Yeah."

"So why are you here?"

"I was worried about you, the doc said you had a rough night."

"Night? This whole life has sucked."

"Hey you don't mean that." The despair in Greg's voice made Nick's blood run cold. He tried to lighten things up with another joke, "Working with me is the highlight of anyone's life."

"Yeah right. You and Warrick have never wanted to work with me." Greg looked up at the ceiling willing himself not to cry. "You hate me, you put me down and you think I'm too stupid and clumsy to do field work."

"Hey, no! No we don't. Well, we tease you but we don't think you're stupid and we don't hate you." Nick didn't know what else to say. "Aw, come on man, Warrick and me, we're just territorial and … jealous. We don't want competition for the ladies from the lab rat genius." Nick looked at his feet, "Sara thinks you're cute and she's never said that about Warrick or me."

"Sara said I'm cute?"

"Yeah, I overheard her telling Catherine that."

"Yeah, cute. Like a puppy at the pound."

"Don't do that, don't put yourself down."

"Sorry, that's your hobby."

"God! Greg you're so damn difficult."

"Sara thinks so too."

"I don't want to see you get hurt."

"So you say and do things to hurt me." Greg pulled at the restraints "Please take these off."

"I can't." Nick avoided Greg's eyes.

"I'm begging you."

"G, I can't. They think you'll try to hurt yourself."

"Go way then, just get out."

"Don't do this, man." Nick said wearily. "I want to help."

"Then get these things off me."

"I can't."

"Get out."

"What do you want me to say, Greg?" Nick was loosing his patience. "What do you want to hear?"

"The sound of the door closing behind you."

Nick made a strangled growling sound and stood up. "I can't do this … you're impossible to reason with. I'm going for a walk."

"You can't fix everything Nick, no matter how much you want things to be fixed. Sometimes they're broken beyond repair."

Nick let the door close behind him and he leaned against the wall. He felt angry and guilty... He also felt completely helpless. Seeing Greg self-destruct and being able to do nothing to help was tearing him up.

**OoO**

It was late evening; the lights were dimmed, soft voices barely heard. Sara stood by his bed. Even asleep he fought against the restraints. His breath came in short shallow gasps. His fingers curled into his palms, his feet shifted under the sheet. No part of him seemed still. The silence of the hospital night seemed only to emphasize the soft cries that escaped his lips. Tears slipped from his tightly clenched eyes.

Sara sat on the edge of the bed, "Shhh." She brushed away the tears with her thumb. "It's going to be alright. Don't cry."

He calmed a little, still pulling against the ties that bound him, quietly crying.

Sara picked up his hand holding it in hers and gently rubbing it with her fingers. Tears prickled her eyes as she began to sing.

Hush a bye now don't you cry

Go to sleep my little darling

When teardrops fall I'll catch them all

Go to sleep my little darling

Be safe in bed sweet dreams sleepyhead

Go to sleep my little darling

Hush a bye hush a bye

Hush a bye my love

With you I'll stay until the day

Comes shining on us both

Hush a bye hush a bye

Hush a bye my love

Hush a bye hush a bye

Hush a bye my love

"You know my mother used to sing that to me, there's more but I've forgotten it. After Dad died and she went away I didn't know what would happen to me." Her voice was choked with emotion. "I never told anyone this, not even Grissom but the kids at the foster home used to call me Sue ah Sidle." She sniffled, "Bad things happen and we can't change that. The bad things can make us weaker or stronger and sometimes you have to be weak before you can get strong. I want you to get stronger Greg, don't let this kill you please. It would be a darker world without you in it."

With one hand she wiped away her tears, "You know, everybody wants to come and see you but the doctors will only let you have three visitors. That's why Catherine and Warrick and all the techs haven't been in yet. Archie, Bobby and Jacqui ask about you all the time." Sara rambled nervously, "I think Hodges feels guilty about what he did, he hardly talks to us. Nick is really upset, he just hates it when he doesn't know what to do. I don't know what you said to him and hewon't tell us. Warrick said he's still going to bring you a steak, but…" she paused, "You have to get better and get out of here so we can take you out for a real dinner."

Sara's shoulders shook as she began to cry, "I miss you." She lay across him, resting her head on his stomach. She rubbed gentle circles on his shoulder. "Please Greg, please come back to … to us."


	13. Chap 13 Say Anything

Chapter 13 – Say Anything

OoOo

"I SAID **DON'T TOUCH ME !"**

"Mr. Sanders please, I have to put this antibiotic salve on or you could get infection in your wounds."

"Greggars! Hva er gal med De? Er dette hvordan vi hevet De oppføre seg?" The angry voice welled from the broad chest of the tall man who filled the doorway.

"Bestefar?" Greg sat up as straight as he could.

"De stanser dette tøvet nå!"

Looking chastened, Greg stopped fighting with the nurse, "Jeg er trist bestefar."

His voice softened and he smiled, "Er at på en hvilken som helst måte tale til Deres far?"

"Jeg mangler De." Tears pooled in Greg's eyes.

"Og jeg manglet De min kostbar." He pulled Greg into an engulfing hug. "I wish I could have come sooner."

Greg cried harder and the man kissed the top of his head, "Min kostbar." He looked at Grissom, "Thank you for saving my grandson."

"I had help." Gil held out his hand, "I'm Gil Grissom. You must be Olaf." Grissom smiled. "Greg's talked about you."

He released Greg long enough to shake Grissom's hand. "Not telling you tall tales about me I hope."

"No, he's spoken very fondly of you." Grissom picked up his jacket and headed for the door. "I should go, you two have a lot of catching up to do."

"Please, stay." Olaf said.

Grissom shook his head, "I'll come back later, I have to get back to the lab. It was nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you too Mr. Grissom. I would very much like to talk more with you again." said Olaf.

Greg kept his face pressed against his grandfather's shirt until the door closed behind Grissom. "Far som jeg er skamfull."

"Hvorfor Greggars?"

"For være redd." Greg replied.

"You survived, there is no shame in that. There is only shame in allowing your fear to make you strike out at those who offer their hands."

"I don't want them to think that I'm weak." Greg's voice wavered. "I don't want to disappoint them."

"You disappoint them when they think you don't need them and don't want their help

Det sterke ber om hjelp. Det svake er også redd spørre." He laughed, seeing that Greg was trying to puzzle out exactly what he'd said.

"The strong will ask for help, the weak are too afraid to ask." Olaf translated. "Do not be afraid to take comfort in your friends just as you are not afraid to take comfort in your family. We don't think you are weak and if they know anything about you, they know that you are strong."

"How did you get to be so wise?" Greg asked.

"I accept the wisdom of my elders." He laughed, "and I supplemented my English by reading fortune cookies." He ruffled Greg's hair, "Now we must see what must be done to get you out of these things." He tugged at the restraints. "To do that will take much self control and courage on your part. I can only ask that they give you a chance."

"Takk De Far."

"You are my Kostbar," Olaf squeezed him tightly enough to elicit a strangled squeak from the young man. "What else could I do?"

Greg blushed, "You're not gonna tell my friends what that means are you?"

Grinning, Olaf released him and pulled an envelope from his pocket, "I brought baby pictures too."

Greg moaned and fell back against the pillows, "I'm doomed."

"No," Olaf laughed, "you are much loved."

OoOoO

Translation of the Norweigian conversation:

Greggars! Hva er gal med De? Er dette hvordan vi hevea De oppføre seg? (Greg! What is wrong with you? Is this how we raised you to behave?)

Bestefar? (Grandfather?)

De stanser dette tøvet nå! (You must stop this nonsense now!)

Jeg er trist bestefar. (I'm sorry grandfather.)

Er at på en hvilken som helst måte tale til Deres far? (Is that any way to speak to your papa?)

Jeg mangler De. (I've missed you.)

Og jeg manglet De min kostbar. (And I have missed you my precious one.)

"Far som jeg er skamfull." (Papa I'm ashamed.)

"Hvorfor Greggars?" (Why Greg?)

"For være redd." (For being afraid.)

"Takk De Far." (Thank you Papa.)

Sorry this is such a short chapter, I'm working on the next one!

I apologize in advance to those of you who speak Norwegian; I got the translations from a place that translates tech manuals soo…

It's weird but the A/N and the R2R is probably longer than the chapter!

Annibal

Yup, Greg angst, it's what I live for! Nick is such a polar opposite of Grissom (at least in their outward reactions) Nick wants everything to be happy and he tries so hard to make it that way while Grissom kinda has the attitude of 'That's life – move on'.

Sillie

Oh he'll get better – physically anyway insert evil laugh

Mellaithwen

Chapter 11 was so short but I really felt that was the best place to leave it so I posted the rest as a following chapter, I can't guarantee that I will always be able to do that, the muse is being stubborn.

If becomes too aggravating for you, you can read this story here - http/ under my penname Stormchilde.

The beginning part is a song called 'Untitled' by Simple Plan. makes a note to self to check out 12 Stones' music.

I really wanted people to be able to feel Greg's distress, I hope it worked…

Strangely enough this fic has made me want to go back and add more to it and change a few things so if you've got any suggestions at all, please share them with me, I love the input. raccoony

Yeah, Simple Plan is great music for breeding plot bunnies!

lins

Change sometimes is the result of destruction. But I'm sometimes of the opinion that 'change is baaaadddd! Change is eeeeviiillll!'

ladyjr16

I'm not sorry :P Have some more tissues!

Princess Artemis

You know you're inciting more plot bunnies than anyone I've ever met! They will be named for you, ya know that don't cha?

xCrimsonxBlackxBloodx

Have you notice that the show's writers pick on Nick while FF writers gang up on Greg? What's the deal with that?

Yes, resistance is futile, but in this case it's futile for me. I've never written anything this involved before and just when I think I'm done, another chapter pops up.

taz3

Thanks! I hope I can feed your Greg angst cravings.

mellowyellow36

Thank You! I hope this chapter gives you a boost too.

Matteic

Well, I don't know about quick but I do know it's short, hopefully I can add another longer chapter soon.


	14. Chap 14 Bring Me To Life

A/N: My apologies to anyone who laughed themselves to tears during the angsty scene between Olaf and Greg. My translations were a little off, I meant no disrespect to anyone.

Miss Cam has graciously agreed to translate for me so that I don't continue to make horrible mistakes with papa Olaf's native tongue.

Responses to my wonderful reviews are at the end of the chapter. Thanks to every single one of you, you are the inspiration that keeps me writing!

Tøysefant – one who has fun goofing around

Gullgutt – golden boy

vemmelig spedbarn - Obnoxious infant

Kostbar - precious one (however this is not quite what I thought – it means precious as in expensive not as precious/dear to me) Thanks Miss Cam!

Jeg elsker De - I love you

OoO

Grissom was sitting in the waiting area and staring at the door to Greg's room when Agent Duncan arrived.

"Did you even go home?" She asked, frowning.

"Yes, I did." Grissom rubbed the stubble on his chin. "I just didn't sleep very well."

"Ah." Jodi smiled. "Women are lucky in that department, we can cover up the dark circles and bags under the eyes with makeup. You poor guys just have deal with it." She sat down beside him. "I hear his grandfather made it in on a red eye flight this morning."

"Yes, he's with Greg now. His presence has made an incredible difference in Greg."

"The people who know them intimately are often the best medicine."

Grissom's voice was low, "I don't know what to tell him."

"Tell him the truth, he'll understand that Greg's been through a lot in the last week."

"How can I tell him his grandson tried to kill himself?"

"It's not your fault Grissom. Don't hide the truth or try to sugar coat it and make it look like something else."

"Why?"

"The truth will come out at the trial and when people hear it then, they'll be angry that you lied to them."

"That's not what I meant."

"Why did he do it?"

"Yeah."

"Depression, anger, self-loathing. As Nick pointed out I don't know Greg, I can only speculate about what drove him to do that. Some suicidal people want to die, some just want help but they don't know how to ask for it."

"And that was a way of asking for help?"

"When you get lost, do you ask for directions or just pick a path and go?"

Grissom smiled, arching an eyebrow.

"When you get lost inside yourself there is no one to ask for directions, confusion can make you step off the edge of the cliff."

"Or onto the point of a knife."

OoO

Dr. Pendergraft agreed to remove the physical restraints but he would not rescind the order for chemical restraints. If Greg behaved as Olaf promised and cooperated with treatment then tomorrow morning he would no longer require Greg to have injections of

Valium. He cautioned Greg and Olaf that if Greg did anything to cause the nurses trouble, he would reinstate the order to have Greg tied back down.

"Your visitor list can be expanded to include all those people who keep calling to check on you." Dr. Pendergraft smiled, "That will make the switchboard operator happy."

Greg promised to behave, calmly accepting the injection. When the ties that bound his hands to the bed were removed, Greg stretched lazily, like a contented cat, then sat up and scratched at his shoulder. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that." he said, grinning.

"Your own fault for being such a _vemmelig spedbarn_." Olaf shook a finger at him. "Now we can get down to business." He opened a small wooden box and took out a handful of chess pieces.

Greg laughed, "Is Papa Hojem still beating you?"

"He does not beat me," Olaf looked insulted, "I let him win."

"Uh huh," Greg didn't look convinced, "Every time?"

"Just try to keep up _gullgutt_."

"Best two out of three?" Greg offered.

"Three of four." Olaf challenged.

"Ohh, glutton for humiliation today aren't we?" Greg began setting the pieces up on the board. "I'll let you win the first one, after that you're on your own."

Three hours later and Greg had won four of five.

"I must go and let you rest." Olaf said sweeping the chessmen back into the box.

"You're just tired of me winning." Greg covered his mouth as he yawned.

"Perhaps." Olaf admitted, folding the chessboard. "Perhaps I wish to let you get some much needed rest." He finished packing away the game but left it on the table beside the bed. "Tomorrow we will play again and I will win." He laughed, "Mr. Chess captain." He

leaned over and kissed Greg on the forehead, "_Jeg er glad I deg Gregers_."

"I love you too, Papa."

Olaf paused in the door, "Goodnight grandson, sleep well."

Greg yawned again, "Goodnight."

Out in the hall, Olaf paused when he saw Grissom sitting and talking with Agent Duncan.

"You are talking about my grandson, yes?" Olaf didn't wait for an answer; he sat in the chair across from Grissom.

"Let me tell you about my _tøysefant_. My son died when Greg was young. My daughter in law had a hard time raising Greg alone. When she moved back with her parents, Greg was already very independent. Questions all the time, constantly he must know why and how. Always pushing, testing every rule. He needs a strong hand to teach him the boundaries."

Olaf looked at the floor and his voice was rough, "His behavior was a way of testing your love for him. If you cared you'd make him stop, if you didn't care he'd be allowed to continue with his selfish actions."

Olaf stood, "I must call his mother and let her know he is much better. Ella wanted to come but her father is ill so she had to stay." Olaf shook his head, "He is in very bad health, I haven't told Greg yet." He left, nodding to Nick as they met in the hallway.

"What's with Mr. Clean?" asked Nick.

"Who?"

"The big bald guy."

"Oh." Grissom smiled, "That was Greg's grandfather, Olaf."

"That's his grandfather? That guy is huge." said Nick, staring incredulously after the retreating form. "He must be six four and at least 250."

"I guess Greg takes after his mother's side of the family." Jodi smiled.

"Uh," Nick cleared his throat nervously. "Agent Duncan, hi." He rubbed absently at the blush creeping up the back of his neck and glanced at Gil.

Grissom stood up, "I'm going to check on Greg." He winked at Nick; "I'll catch up with you later."

OoO

Grissom sat beside the bed and watched the young man. Greg's breathing was a little shallow and uneven still but the heart monitor peeped in a reassuring rhythm. Gone were the lines across his forehead and the tight set to his lips. Greg looked like he was resting

without pain or fear. The agitation that had kept him straining against the restraints was also gone, his hands and feet were still, no soft cries emanating from between clenched teeth.

The door opened and Grissom smiled as Sara came in.

"Hey." she said, in greeting.

"Hey, yourself." Grissom nodded toward the door, "Is Nicky still groveling?"

"Yeah", Sara smiled crookedly, "it's cute when he forgets how to talk."

"I don't know if it's forgetfulness or if he's trying to avoid saying something Agent Duncan will try to analyze."

Sara laughed, walking over to stand by the bed, on the opposite side from Grissom. Her eyes glistened with moisture as she looked at Greg. "How is he?"

"Resting comfortably." Grissom assured her.

Sara laid her hand over Greg's, frowning at the chill of his skin. "He's cold. Why are his hands so cold?" She touched his cheek, "Greg? Come on Greg, wake up."

Greg didn't stir and Sara looked worriedly at Grissom.

Gil stood up and stroked Greg's eyelashes with a fingernail, when this didn't evoke a response from the young man he too frowned. "Sara, push the call button. I think we need to have the doctor check him over."

oOoO

Fwe: Who else would hang on so long to help me out with a story that has gone 20,000 words longer than I said it would? Not to mention you could wall paper the Sear's Tower with all my punctuation errors you've corrected LOL!

Mellaithwen: Thanks for being a faithful reader and reviewer! Hands Mellaithwen a Greggoclone

ladyjr16: I'm not sure how everyone lectured him looking but I tried to stay true to how I'm sure everyone thought he acted.hands ladyjrl6 more tissues You may need these!

linschickrule101 Oh Boy were my translations a tad off! I was going for precious one meaning a dear person but Miss Cam (who speaks Norwegian) set me straight on that kostbar is translated to meaning expensive!

Sillie: As you wish, MORE!

LXG-Gurl121: If my stupid computer at home would stop freezing up every time I click on a link I'd bee reading and reviewing all my favorite stories! The firewall on the 'puters at work can be a little picky too so if I ever have time, I'm going to try the one at the library. I've got a lot of catching up to do!

Princess Artemis: Please continue to feed the bunnies and to prod me into writing another chapter!

Thankfully I have Miss Cam helping me out on the translations now so I'm not going to say anything offensive in Norwegian.

liv:Glomps liv: Thanks so much for your help, it's embarrassing to find that the scene you thought you were writing as angsty and emotional is actually funny instead.

xCrimsonxBlackxBloodx:

On a sugar high, are you? LOL! Yeah, don't you just want to send a cage of badgers to those slow poke updaters? (I have received several, I looking for new homes for them) And just in case I feel you need new pets, where might I send yours? ;)

Camilla Sandman: MISS CAM! I can't say thank you enough for all the assistance you've given me on this fic! I know you're busy with your own writing and that you've taken time out to help me is wonderful.

Matteic: I have a cage of badgers with your name on them dearie! ;) I'll try to update more often but it is ball season, so I'm shuttling the kids to the ball fields and keeping score at their games, it doesn't give me much time to fantasize about the Greggy boy.

mellowyellow36: None in me… oh boy, now the smut muse is getting excited. You just had to wake her up didn't you?


	15. Chap 15 Fade To Black

Kudos to Miss Cam, who is ever patient on translating for me and answering my silly questions.

Thanks to my beta Fwe!

The muse is being terribly uncooperative this chapter, so it is unfortunately a short one with a cliffhanger ending.

R2Rs really are at the end of this post, I double checked it this time.

OoO

The nurse hurried in and checked the readouts on the monitors. She listened to Greg's heart, the stethoscope lingering over his left lung. Quickly, she put a mask over Greg's face and turned on the oxygen then clipped a sensor to Greg's finger. She watched silently as the monitor's numbers slowly increased.

"What's wrong with him?" Sara asked softly.

"There's going to be a lot of things happening in here in the next few minutes," she said as she unhooked the collection bag attached to the chest tube. The liquid inside was thick and red. "It will be best if you both waited outside."

Grissom took Sara's arm and led her out into the hall. Nurses and doctors came rushing down to the room.

"What's going on?" Nick asked worriedly. "Is something wrong with Greg?"

"He's bleeding," Sara cried, covering her face with her hands and leaning against Grissom. "And he won't wake up."

"He's dying?" Nick's eyes were dark with horror.

"I don't know." Grissom replied.

"Hey, Guys!" Catherine called as she exited the elevator, "Look who I found." She had one arm through Olaf's and they were both laughing. Catherine's smile disappeared when she saw the grim expressions of the others.

"What's going on?" She asked, looking toward the closed door of Greg's room. "Can't we see him? I wanted to give him the bear Lindsey made for him." She held up a stuffed teddy bear dressed in a wide collared shirt with crazy patterns, much like one of Greg's favorite shirts. The fur on its head had been spiked up with hairspray.

"Something is wrong with Gregers?" Olaf asked.

"I think he's slipped into a coma." Grissom replied.

"We couldn't get him to wake up."

"Ach, this cannot be! I just tell his mother he is better"

They watched helplessly as technicians moved equipment into the room. It seemed like an eternity before Dr. Pendergraft came out to talk to them.

"We're going to have to do surgery immediately. The sutures I put in have obviously not held. He's bleeding into the plural cavity, he's literally drowning in his own blood."

"What is the prognosis?" Grissom asked.

Dr. Pendergraft shook his head, "I suggest that you get all of his family here as soon as possible."

OoO

The small room was crowded with people; all the night shift CSIs, Olaf and Greg's mother who had made it in on the first plane available after leaving her father in the care of a neighbor.

Dr. Pendergraft had called in a cardiac surgeon named Dr. Shimura. It was Dr. Shimura who gravely explained to the them what the risky surgery would entail.

"We will have to lower Greg's core temperature to a point at which his heart will stop beating. His blood will be artificially circulated while I repair the damage to his heart. He is young and in good health which makes the surgery a good risk."

"Is any risk a good one?" asked Ella tearfully.

"The risk is outweighed by the results of not performing the surgery. Without repairs made to the wound, Greg will certainly die within the next six hours. I won't lie to you, the odds of him dieing during the surgery are pretty high and if he does survive the procedure he could still die of complications."

"He'll make it." said Grissom.

Olaf laid his hand over Greg's heart, his other hand found Ella's. He bowed his head and said "Please join hands and we will pray for my grandson."

Greg's friends gathered around his bed, joining hands, Sara's slender hand rested on Olaf's hand over Greg's heart.

"Herren er min hyrde,

jeg mangler ingen ting.

Han lar meg ligge i grønne enger;

han fører meg til vann der jeg finner hvile,

og gir meg ny kraft.

Han leder meg på de rette stier

for sitt navns skyld.

Selv om jeg går i dødsskyggens dal,

frykter jeg ikke for noe vondt.

For du er med meg.

Din kjepp og din stav, de trøster meg.

Du dekker bord for meg

like for øynene på mine fiender.

Du salver mitt hode med olje,

mitt beger flyter over.

Bare godhet og miskunn

skal følge meg alle mine dager,

og jeg får bo i Herrens hus

gjennom lange tider. "

They seemed reluctant to let go of one another, still holding hands as they stepped back to allow the nurses to pull the cooling blankets up over Greg. The nurses maneuvered the bed out and down the hall. Their last glimpse of Greg was that of his spiky hair as the elevator doors closed.

"He'll make it." Grissom reiterated.

oOo

Ella was exhausted, she slept fitfully on a couch in the waiting room, waking with a start whenever anyone came near. Jodi and Catherine had both tried to get her to eat something but she'd refused, saying her stomach was too upset to keep anything down except the sprite Sara had given her. She clutched the Greg bear to her chest, praying quietly. Ella smiled when Sara joined her, she'd been surprised that the young woman had evidently been able to understand enough of the Norwegian words to say the Lord's Prayer in English as Ella prayed.

"He is my only child." She gazed sadly at Sara as they held hands. "I cannot keep him beside me for always but I do not wish him to go where I cannot follow."

"Gregars has always been one to explore." said Olaf. "He looked for excitement in New York and California and when he tired of that he moved here. This is where he has been happiest I think. He says there is plenty of time later to settle back in Norway and raise a family."

"Can you imagine," Catherine laughed, "trying to keep up with little Gregs?"

"That would be a full time job." Nick grinned.

"A job I look forward to." said Ella. "Grandchildren keep you young."

"Children make you feel old." Catherine said. "Lindsey will be old enough to drive in a couple of years, going off to college…"

"They may go, but they are never far away." Ella patted Catherine's hand. "They come back."

Catherine's eyes sparkled with unshed tears, "I'm supposed to be comforting you."

"Strength comes of sharing." Ella said. The telephone in the waiting area rang, Ella picked it up hesitantly; as if handling a dangerous animal. "Hello?" she answered. "I am Ella Sanders." The bear she been holding dropped from her arms, landing on the floor, face down. "Yes. No, no I'll take care of it. Thank you." She hung the phone up and her shoulders shook as she cried.

Olaf sat down beside her, speaking softly in their native language.

After a few moments, Ella wiped a hand across her eyes, "There is a funeral home nearby?" she asked. "I must make arrangements."

taz3: Oops! My bad…

ladyjr16: Thanks for the cookie, I'm not easy but I can be had…

castra: YIKES! I'm prodding the muse but she's in a foul mood, she tells me to kill Greg!

radioactive raccoony: WB! I'll try to update soon since this was so short.

Annibal: Muhahahahaha! Thank you! You are an awesome writer, I wish I had more time to keep up with. Yes, chaos and destruction – it's my hobby.

Lins: Thank you, you too! I promise to update if you will.

tvspaz626: Oopsie! runs

bree1387: Do I know you from the Harperchondriacs? I suck at writing romance (smut I'm so-so at) and I love a good friendship piece. I'm Greg angst monger so come on back if you'd like more.

Sillie: Thank you! I hope you still like it after this chapter… ducks and runs

Matteic: Whoops! I kinds forgot to attach the R2R on the last one. Life is full of twists and turns and ya gotta watch that first step, and the next one, and the next one and …

xCrimsonxBlackxBloodx: My Friend! How's this for a cliffie or at least a really mean ending for the chapter? Am I overloading you with the Gregsmacking?

McKenna and his Dad are on my list of loose ends to tie up before it's all said and done, hopefully that will be soon, the muse is getting … difficult and … smutty.

Ze Queen Of Bleu: Sorry I didn't update sooner and it is shorter than I'd like to have made it but the muse is not cooperating

Fwe: It's only three miles long? I must be loosing my fondness for commas!


	16. Chapter 16 A Light Shining Through

**Chap. 16 – A light shining through**

"Greg?" Sara gasped.

"Oh no kjære deg, it is my father."

"Thank God! Oh I'm sorry I didn't mean that I meant…"

Ella smiled ruefully, "It is okay, I know. It is not unexpected, my father was very sick when I left."

"There is a funeral home a couple of blocks over," Catherine volunteered, "Nice people, they'll help you."

"I will come." said Olaf.

"No Olaf, I will be fine, you stay and wait for news on Gregers please."

"I'll come with you." Grissom insisted.

"It is very kind of you Mr. Grissom."

"Call me Gil please."

"Thank you Gil." Ella picked up her purse and settled the bear in Sara's arms. "Take care of him for me?" She asked

"Of course." Sara agreed.

"Now Gil we go, take care of the things we must then come back to hear my son's voice."

She said determinedly.

**OoOo**

"Vekker min sønn."

"Jeg fryser, la meg sove."

"I know you are cold min kjær," she rubbed his hands between hers, "But I've come a long ways and I don't want to sit here and watch you sleep."

"Mamma?" Greg's eyes opened slowly, "Is it really you?"

"Yes, it really is. You gave me quite a fright."

"I'm sorry." He replied sleepily, "Is Papa Hojem here?"

"No dear one."

"But you can't leave…"

"It is not for you to worry over my sweet, my Papa is safe."

"It's so cold in here." He complained.

"It's to make you better little one."

He ignored the endearment that he usually protested, "By turning me into a popsicle?"

"You'll be warmer soon, I promise." she continued to chafe his hands.

Greg turned his face to the wall and began to shake.

Alarmed, she drew him close, "Greggars?"

"I'm sorry mamma I just wish I..."

"I am very proud of you Greg. There is nothing you could ever do to make me love you less. You are far from home and I worry for you." She said. "I wish you would come back home."

"I can't." he sobbed, "I can't go back like this."

"No one would blame you," she comforted, "I told you this place was bad, please, please Greggars come home with me. I need you now that –"

"Let the boy be Ella," Olaf interrupted, "he needs time to heal." He closed the door behind him.

Ella started to speak again and Olaf shook his head, "His friends worry, let them see him and you and I can get some coffee."

Once out in the hall, Olaf spoke softly, "I know that your grief is heavy but now is not the time to lay this burden on him." Olaf cautioned, "You know that he will feel responsible and he will do what ever you wish in order to make up for it but you know that if he comes back to Norway he will wither away. He needs this place, these people, Greggars is not like us, he needs challenges. What is there for him in Norway? Would you have him to work at the diner? The packing plant or the warehouse? You have to let him go or you will lose him. Do not tether him to you with a noose of guilt."

Ella wiped at the tears that streamed down her face, "I want him to be happy but I fear for him."

"We all do but we must let him make the choices no matter how hard it is for us."

"But I –"

"If he comes home now, under these circumstances it will be but months and he will grow angry and resentful. You can't cage a spirit such as his."

OooOoo

"You must think I'm a waste of skin."

"I think that you are human." Grissom said. "An extraordinary person who has more strength than even he knows."

"I've been so stupid."

"Everyone makes mistakes, it's how we learn."

"I want to quit."

"No you don't."

"How do you know?"

"Greg you are the most inquisitive, persistent person I've ever known. You have never let the opinions of other people hold you back from something you wanted."

"Well I don't want this anymore."

"That's your choice but I think you're making the decision without thinking it through. Take some time off, go back with your mother and grandfather for a little while but don't close the door on everything you have here." He started for the door but Greg's soft voice made him pause.

"Thanks Grissom."

"For what?"

"For not giving up on me. For not letting me give up on me."

"You're not just a co-worker Greg, you're my friend and friends never abandon each other."

OoOo

"You sang to me."

"You heard that?"

"Yeah, it was nice."

"well uh," Sara blushed, "don't expect it to happen again."

"You have a beautiful voice."

"Only when I think no one is listening." she sat the bear on the bed next to him, "Catherine had to leave but she brought this for you."

Greg looked at the bear and laughed.

"Linds made it for you I think you two look a lot alike." Sara teased.

"I'm not sure if that was a compliment or not."

"Of course it is, he's an adorable little bear." Sara grinned.

Greg stared at Sara for a moment then seeming satisfied with something he smiled, "Tell Linds and Catherine thank you for me."

"I will." she leaned over and kissed his forehead, "'night Greg."

"G'night Sara."

OoOo

"Hey buddy." Nick greeted.

"Hey."

Awkward silence reined for a moment then they spoke at the same time saying the exact same words. "I'm sorry."

"I was a jerk." Said Greg.

"No I was."

Again the silence took over, neither seemed to know what to say.

"You know," Nick began, "after that Nigel Crane thing I almost packed it in and went back to Texas. I couldn't handle being in my apartment or around any of ya'll. I thought I was goin' crazy." His voice was thick. "I was … I felt weak and it shamed me to think that you saw me that way."

"You were afraid?"

"Every day G."

"But you never showed it."

"And you have no idea how much that cost me. I got to the point where I couldn't sleep, I was scared to be alone and I hated bein' around people."

"What did you do?"

"I asked for help. I told Grissom."

"He never said anything."

"Of course not, he's my friend. We're all your friends Greg, if you just let us in we can help you."

"You won't think …"

"We don't judge each other and we don't compare notes on what's goin' on in everyone's lives. Trust us, we just want to have you back again."

Greg was silent again, thinking about the things that Nick had said.

"Take some time if you need to, just don't shut us out okay?" He grasped Greg's hand, a quick squeeze and then he was gone.

OooOooO

"Do you remember me?"

"Agent Duncan."

"I won't stay long, I know you need to rest but I …" She hesitated swallowing hard and seemed to find an interesting spot on the ceiling for several minutes. When she looked back at him her eyes were sparkling with unshed tears. "I just wondered what your plans were …" she paused rubbing a hand across her eyes, "when you get out of here."

"I'm going back to Norway with my mom." Greg replied. "For a little while at least. Think things over and maybe I'll come back here, I don't know yet."

Jodi coughed, "You'll keep in touch with your friends I hope."

Greg smiled, "You sound like a psychiatrist." At her look of hurt surprise he added, "That's not a bad thing. You helped me a lot."

"I'm just doing my job."

"If that were true I think you'd be spending less time with me and more time with… them."

She didn't try to hide the tears as she stepped closer and pulled him into a hug, "We gotta stick together you know, in helping others we help ourselves."

"You sound like Yoda now." Greg laughed and wiped at his own tears.

"That's what I told the woman who told it to me."

"Linking together makes a stronger chain?"

"I think that's a new one that I'll use too if you don't mind."

"Pass it on, I don't mind."

Jodi pressed a small book into his hands, "Keep a journal, it helps chase the nightmares away and I put my numbers in there and my e-mail if you ever need me."

"Thanks." He said, "Do you have to go now?"

"I have to finish up my report and then I have some vacation time coming up."

"Where are you going?"

She smiled, "I haven't decided just yet."

"Vegas is a fun place," Greg grinned mischievously, "Grissom could show you the sights."

"I think I might just do that for a little while." She smiled back at him, "Then I think I'll visit a friend in Michigan."

"Really?"

"Are there any touristy things to do in Norway, Michigan?"

"I may know a few."

_**Epilogue –**_

Bradley McKenna recovered fully from his gunshot wounds. Charged with multiple counts of kidnapping, assault and murder he is serving a life sentence without the possibility of parole at the Nadler Psychiatric Detention Center. He is considered to be a model citizen and assists in teaching other prisoners to paint.

Bruce Rhodes was found guilty of conspiracy to commit murder, kidnapping and aiding and abetting in the commission of a felony. He is currently serving a thirty year sentence at the maximum security prison in Reno.

After the trial, the portraits McKenna painted were all destroyed despite protests from gallery owner Richard Forrest. The sole existing portrait, of Greg, has of this date never been recovered. The identity of the buyer still remains a mystery.

**OoOo**

aLeX24,

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and Ze Queen of Bleu

– you are awesome people every one of you.

I hope I didn't miss anyone, you've all been wonderful, encouraging me every step and that makes you important to me. If you tried to prod the muse by writing to me at Hotmail, I'm sorry I didn't get that but the e-mail problem has been fixed.

xCrimsonxBlackxBloodx – Thanks for letting me bounce ideas off you.

Princess Artemis – Thanks for sharing your wealth of Greg Sanders facts.

Camilla Sandman – Thank you for taking the time to help me with translations and answering my pesky and often oddball questions about Norwegians.

Nikki, who was determined to track me down and found me, this chapter is all because of you. I don't know where the muse went but not long after your wrote me, the story came back and I was able to finish it.

Fwe – I can't thank you enough for sticking it out with me. When I asked for a beta I said it would be a short story, just a couple of pages. I never dreamed it would turn into an editorial nightmare of 25,000 words (and 68,382 unnecessary commas). Through illness, working on your own fics and personal tragedies you've kept me going. You are the world's best beta.

If you can tolerate complete drivel I've also posted for the morbidly curious, the original ending that I tried to write just to finish it off after the muse abandoned me. I warn you it's not a pretty thing, even Fwe's muses ran away after she read it. But just think, you got a much better ending because you were so patient.

You'd think I'd learn to make back up copies of my fics but I haven't. I have them on my hard drive and on my jump drive – the computer crashes and some motherless son of a dog steals my jump drive and it's all gone. Anyone who writes knows how difficult it is to start over on something you've poured your heart into and you know that the second result is never as good as the first and that makes it sometimes too difficult to even attempt.

Thank you everyone, for sticking with me when I had given up.

Cat


	17. Alternate Ending

_This is the ending you almost got…_

"Hey Catherine wake up, I've got your results."

She squinted against the light streaming in though the windows behind him. "What time is it?" she twisted her neck, popping it. "Ouch."

"That's what you get for sleeping with your head on the table and it's time for you to go home."

"I had the most disturbing dream."

"That's what you get for sleeping in the break room."

She stared at him with an odd expression. "It was about you."

Greg grinned "Me?" His smile faded, "Wait a minute you said it was disturbing, I'm not disturbing … I'm a little quirky but no way am I disturbing." he rambled "unless it was one of those dreams where you and I …"

"It wasn't that kind of dream!"

"Oh." He looked disappointed "Oh."

"The results Greg?"

"It's a match. McKenzie's the murderer."

Catherine stood up, stretching and yawning, "Thanks Greg." She stared at him again then reached out and brushed her fingers across his cheek.

"What? Do I have a dirty spot, Mom?" He teased.

Catherine sighed contentedly. "No, just a beauty mark I guess."

"No one has ever called my freckles 'beauty marks'."

"Today they are."

"What about tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow? Ha! You won't live to see tomorrow!" She picked up a knife that had been laying on the table and drove it into his right side.

Greg screamed and woke up.

"Hva er gal?"

"Papa Olaf?"

"Are you in pain?"

"God, I just had the most horrible nightmare."

"Take it easy Greggars, the doctor said the anesthesia might cause you to have some bad dreams."

"Oh this was worse that bad, much, much worse than bad!"

"Do you want me to call the nurse?"

"No, no. I'm okay."

"You are very lucky boy, if your appendix had burst you would not be here."

"I'm glad you came for a visit, otherwise I'd have been home alone when this happened."

Olaf ruffled Greg's hair, "You want me to interpret your bad dream?"

"Nah, I'm pretty sure it just means I should never, ever eat spicy pecan chicken ever again."

"You should find a woman to cook for you and stop eating this mishmash in a box." Olaf teased.

_fini_

Aren't you glad the muse came back?


End file.
